\ 


THE 


TEMPLE  REBUILT 


A   POEM 


BY 

FREDERICK  R.  ABBE 


A  NEW  EDITION,  REVISED  AND  ENLARGED 


BOSTON 
D.  LOTHROP  AND  COMPANY 

1882 


COPYRIGHT,    1881, 
BY  D.  LOTHROP  &  COMPANY. 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  I.  — THE  EDIFICE. 
THE  DIGNITY  AND  DESTINY  OF  THE  SOUL        ...       7 

BOOK  II.  — THE  RUINS. 
THE  NATURE  AND  FEARFUL  FRUITS  OF  SIN          ...      20 

BOOK  III.— THE  NEW  FOUNDATION. 
THE  DIVINE  PREPARATION  FOR  THE  RENEWAL    ...      46 

BOOK  IV.  — THE  HOLY  BUILDERS. 
THE  AGENTS  IN  THE  WORK  OF  RESTORATION      ...      67 

BOOK  V.— THE  SACRED  IMPLEMENTS. 

THE    VARIOUS    INSTRUMENTALITIES    EMPLOYED  IN  THE 
WORK , 


M191833 


4  Contents. 

BOOK  VI.  — THE  SANCTUARY. 
THE  NEARER  CIRCLES  OF  LOVE  AND  HOLY  EFFORT      .       .    128 

BOOK  VII.  — THE  COURT  OF  THE  NATION. 
THE  DUTIES  OF  A  LARGE  CHRISTIAN  PATRIOTISM         .       .     143 

BOOK  VIII.  —  THE  COURT  OF  THE  WORLD. 

THE  OBLIGATION  OF  INTEREST  IN  THE  WELFARE  OF  ALL 

NATIONS  184 

BOOK  IX.  — FINISHED. 

THE   CONSUMMATION  AND  ISSUE  IN  THE    EVERLASTING 

SCENES 201 

BOOK  X.  — HALLELUJAH. 

A  CALL  FOR  UNIVERSAL  PRAISE  2  \  i 


PREFATORY  NOTE. 

The  first  edition  of  this  work  was  prepared,  for  the  most  part, 
in  the  midst  of  the  duties  and  cares  of  an  active  pastorate,  and 
was  issued  in  a  form  somewhat  crude  and  incomplete. 

It  has  now,  with  more  leisure,  been  re-written,  re-arranged  and 
enlarged,  and  made,  while  retaining  the  same  general  course  of 
thought,  substantially  a  new  work. 

In  this  form  it  is  re-issued  with  the  hope  and  earnest  desire  that 
it  may,  in  a  greater  measure,  interest,  instruct  and  quicken  in 
human  and  heavenly  things,  and  contribute  to  the  great  work  of 
building  up  in  the  earth  the  Temple  of  the  Lord. 


THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT, 


BOOK     I. 
THE     EDIFICE. 


The  subject  stated.  Invocation.  The  dignity  and  worth  of  the  soul.  Of 
zodlike  faculty  and  rule.  Greater  than  all  material  creation.  Its  measure 
less  possibilities.  Each,  as  kin  with  all,  honored  in  all  high  achievements. 
Illustrious  examples.  Sovereign  and  subject.  Not  a  part  of  a  pantheistic 
Power.  A  ribald  scepticism,  in  the  guise  of  philosophy,  rebuked.  God  not 
a  law,  nor  a  blind  force,  but  an  infinite  Person.  Man  in  his  likeness,  able 
for  righteousness  or  sin.  Immortal,  and  of  endless  growth  in  capacity  and 


character. 


The  man  renewed,  the  fallen  soul  restored 
In  holy  beauty  through  Messiah  slain, 
Sung  by  the  angels,  and  by  human  lips    . 
From  age  to  age  rehearsed  in  hymns  of  praise 
And  grateful  worship,  I  would  celebrate, 
And  with  melodious  wisdom  fitly  show 
The  Living  Temple  from  its  ruins  raised 
In  richer  splendor  to  its  native  form. 
7 


THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Eternal  Spirit !  from  the  throne  of  light, 
Whose  inspiration  is  the  ruin  wrought 
In  newness  of  the  holy  workmanship, 
And  birth  of  glory  in  a  life  divine  ; 
Who,  by  the  sovereign  influence  of  that  Name, 
Building  the  soul,  dost  from  disastrous  fall 
Raise  to  the  shapes  of  immortality, 
Directing,  by  thy  presence  and  control, 
The  heavenly  structure  from  the  corner-stone 
To  the  last  pinnacle  of  completed  grace; 
Help  me  the  theme  to  utter  worthily, 
In  noble  measure  and  a  nobler  mood, 
With  faith  unfaltering,  tender  eloquence, 
Illumined  reason,  clear  simplicity, 
Experience  ripe,  a  witness  true  to  all 
The  facts  of  glory,  that  I  may  exalt 
The  Heavenly  Mercy,  and  some  needy  heart 
Bless  with  the  cheer  of  this  triumphant  truth. 
Oh  !  touch  my  lips,  my  wayward  thought  inform, 
That  not  a  word  unworthily  presume 
To  tell  the  sacred  story  of  the  heavens. 
The  high  endeavor  prosper  to  thy  will ; 
Yea,  in  the  solemn  rapture  of  my  song, 
Through  dark  and  light,  in  lofty  ecstasy, 
Bear,  bear  me  on  thy  wing,  that  I  may  well 
The  wonders  of  the  gracious  way  declare, 


THE   EDIFICE.  4 

The  ruin,  and  the  rich,  immortal  hope 
In  Christ  the  Blessed  ;  at  whose  feet  I  lay 
This  tribute  in  adoring  gratitude. 

Wrapped  in  the  womb  of  infinite  design 
From  all  the  ages,  in  the  thought  of  God, 
I  came,  the  moment  of  his  sovereign  will, 
Forth  in  his  living  likeness ;  spirit  true, 
Immortal  essence,  kin  and  royal  sort 
Of  the  bright  seraphs,  sceptered  mightily 
In  a  great  realm  of  powers,  which  I  may  rule 
To  glory  or  dishonor.     Though  a  child, 
Before  me  may  the  hoary  mountains  bow, 
And  learn  their  littleness,  when  I  may  lift 
My  thought  above  the  heavens,  nor  be  abashed 
Before  the  soulless  splendors  of  the  sky, 
Greater  in  dignity  of  love  and  will 
Than  all  the  cold  creation.     Starry  spheres ! 
That  with  your  fires  spangle  the  firmament 
Like  sparks  of  lustre  from  Jehovah's  throne, 
What  is  your  light  to  mine  ?     O  beautiful 
Earth,  my  fair  home  !  so  richly  dight 
In  robes  embroidered  of  the  sun  and  air, 
And  gorgeous  with  the  marks  of  Deity ; 
Thy  flowers,  his  beauty,  and  thy  choirs,  his  song ; 
Thy  winds,  his  breath  ;  thy  seasons,  his  survey ; 


IO  THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT. 

Thy  hills,  his  seat ;  thy  clouds,  his  chariot ; 
Thy  harvests,  the  rich  bounty  of  his  store ; 
Thy  seas,  his  glass  of  glory  :  what  art  thou, 
In  the  mechanic  splendor  of  thy  praise, 
To  my  free  adoration  ?     Boundlessly 
Spread  your  amazing  wonders,  worlds  afar  ! 
Paltry  and  mean  to  my  immortal  powers, 
That  move  aloft  within  the  sphere  of  God, 
And  hold  communion  with  his  deity. 

Come,  make  thy  best  pretense,  thy  loudest  boast, 
O  Nature !  I  will  shame  thee.     For  I  may 
Outshine  thy  brightest  beams ;  more  swiftly  fly 
Than  wings  of  wind,  or  coursers  of  the  light, 
Pursue  the  comet,  and  from  world  to  world 
Leap  with  unfettered  thought;  be  musical 
More  in  the  method  of  the  heavenly  ear, 
Than  note  of  bird,  or  forest  minstrelsy, 
Or  air,  or  ocean,  or  the  singing  spheres, 
Or  golden  harp  of  angels  ;  sweeter  be 
Than  all  the  honey  palaces  of  dew, 
Or  morning  in  the  odorous  Paradise ; 
Purer  than  flowing  crystal,  or  the  clear 
Gleam  of  the  wintry  fleece ;  more  beautiful 
Than  sunset,  when  the  cloudy  chamberlains 
Hang  all  the  west  with  gorgeous  drapery, 


THE  EDIFICE.  Il 

Or  rarest  chaplet  ever  earth  inwove 

To  deck  her  beauty  for  the  kiss  of  heaven ; 

Richer  than  rubies,  grander  than  the  seas, 

Sublimer  than  the  hills,  magnificent 

More  than  the  starry  garniture  on  high, 

Or  all  the  glittering  vestments  of  the  Throne. 

For  greater  is  it,  with  a  heart  of  love, 

Able  the  seat  celestial  to  ascend, 

To  show  the  godlike  feature,  than  display 

The  outer  splendor  of  His  majesty ; 

More  marvelous  to  think,  than  be  a  world 

For  thought  to  range  and  ponder ;  more  sublime 

To  follow  duty,  than  the  nicest  paths 

That  ever  planet  ran  in  ;  and  to  lisp 

One  note  of  free  devotion,  more  divine 

Than  all  the  chorus  of  material  song. 

o 

What  are  the  gates  of  heaven,  when  I  may  have 
Heaven  in  a  holy  heart  ?  the  works  of  God, 
When  I  with  God  may  work  ?  the  glittering  fires 
That  fleck  the  starry  temple,  when  my  soul 
With  lustre  of  immortal  light  may  glow, 
And  be  a  temple  for  the  fire  divine  ? 

In  the  clear  mirror  of  my  soul  I  see, 
In  countless  form,  a  fellow  multitude ; 
As  in  the  answering  element  appear, 


12  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Upon  the  nether  azure  of  the  deep, 

The  teeming  features  of  the  circling  hills. 

The  ages  through  my  veins  their  history  course, 

And  swell  the  current  of  my  trivial  day ; 

For  I  am  what  I  feel  with.     All  the  years, 

By  knowledge  or  by  sympathy,  are  mine, 

And  with  my  being  thus  incorporate. 

No  deed  heroic  but  ennobles  me, 

And  I  can  glory  in  the  boast  of  all ; 

Share,  as  a  branch,  in  all  the  excellence 

That  crowns  with  fruit  our  large  humanity. 

I  may  with  Milton,  in  his  flight  sublime, 
Compass  the  heavens,  and  sound  his  mighty  song 
For  angel  ears ;  the  human  passions  range 
With  Shakespeare,  and  his  potent  pencil  fill, 
In  magic  movement  of  his  scenery, 
With  troops  of  living  Nature ;  with  the  scales 
Of  Newton  weigh  the  worlds ;  with  Bacon  search 
The  secrets  of  philosophy  and  find 
The  universal  law ;  with  Raphael 
In  beauty  paint,  till  the  seraphic  touch 
Dazzles  with  angels  ;  build  with  Angelo 
In  massy  art,  till,  like  a  sky  above, 
The  dome  of  wonder  spreads ;  warm  with  the  fire 
Of  Luther's  hallowed  eloquence,  and  wield 


THE   EDIFICE.  13 

The  shafts  of  Chatham,  or  the  ponderous  bolts 

Of  Webster's  Titan  tongue  ;  with  Miller  trace 

Upon  the  rocky  pages  prints  divine, 

Creation,  and  the  ravenous  sepulture, 

The  races  buried  while  the  axle  turns 

Its  myriad  million  years  ;  with  Agassiz 

Marshal  the  finny  schools,  till  deep  to  deep 

Gives  forth  its  ordered  multitude  ;  unroll 

The  heavens  with  Herschel,  orb  on  glittering  orb, 

Till  thought  is  startled,  and  the  dazzled  eye 

Tires  with  the  weight  of  worlds  ;  downward  with 

Beale 

The  microscopic  marvel  turn,  and  show 
The  swarming  billions,  God  as  wonderful 
Beneath  as  over,  busy  life  at  play 
In  drops,  as  teeming  ab  the  ancient  seas ; 
With  Dana  mix  the  deft,  strange  elements, 
And  solve  the  fiery  problems  ;  with  Daguerre 
Paint  with  the  sun,  in  fairy  art  of  light, 
Immortal  faces  with  a  flash  of  heaven  ; 
With  Watt  subdue  leviathan  in  iron 
To  toil  of  million  sinews,  till  the  deep 
Boils  with  the  rush  of  navies,  and  the  land 
Quakes  with  the  roar  of  enginery  ;  with  Morse 
Harness  the  lightning  to  the  eager  news, 
Outstripping  time,  across  the  continent, 


THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Across  the  sea,  and  like  Omniscience  reap 
At  once  the  busy  world  ;  with  Washington, 
Against  oppression's  haughty  armament, 
Lead  the  rude  ranks  to  glorious  victory, 
Beget  a  nation,  and  supremely  crown 
The  ruler's  honor  and  the  patriot's  name  ; 
Lay  with  Augustine  of  the  City  of  God 
The  deep  foundations,  square  the  massy  blocks 
With  Calvin,  patiently  with  Edwards  shape 
The  stately  superstructure,  with  a  hand, 
Out  of  the  wilderness,  so  strong  and  wise, 
Nations  admire  ;  and  stand  in  breathless  awe 
With  Moses  and  with  Paul,  as  face  to  face 
They  see  the  Glory,  and  to  human  need 
The  will  of  God  reveal.     With  these  great  names, 
Upon  the  princely  summits  I  may  go, 
With  humble  feet  in^ their  emblazoned  steps, 
And  take  the  virtue  to  my  human  powers, 
As  man  with  them,  in  kinship  with  the  souls 
That  think  and  act  so  grandly,  and  within, 
However  weak  and  simple,  gloriously 
Ennobled  feel  in  their  nobility. 

The  higher  is  the  harder  to  subdue 
To  sweet  and  willing  homage ;  grows  the  sense 
Of  independence  with  the  sense  of  power. 


THE    EDIFICE.  1 5 

Not  as  the  rush  the  stubborn  oak  is  bent, 
The  stately  cedar  as  the  flimsy  withe ; 
And  more  Omnipotence  is  tasked  to  sway 
The  imperial  spirit  in  its  liberty, 
Than  all  the  orbs  of  dumb  obedience. 
Submissively  the  planets  wheel  their  course 
In  the  nice  circles  of  eternal  skill. 
The  even  balance  of  the  universe 
Hangs  to  the  hair.     The  punctual  seasons  loll, 
And  Nature  never  swerves.     But  Freedom  may 
Usurp  the  potent  rein,  run  the  fell  round, 
Puff  with  proud  petulance,  and  scorn  the  hand 
Which  cannot  fealty  force.     The  holy  heart, 
Held  in  the  service  of  submissive  love, 
The  sweet  enthralment  of  great  liberty, 
The  sceptre  crowns  of  heavenly  government. 
To  draw  divinest  action  from  its  spring, 
This,  this  is  greatness.     Lo  !  the  touch  of  God 
The  ready  planet  rules  ;  his  full  hand,  man : 
Man,  but  an  atom,  yet  an  atom  great 
With  possible  convulsion  of  a  world, 
With  ruin  of  immortal  interests ; 
Man,  the  ruled  arbiter  of  destiny, 
A  sovereign  subject,  and  a  vassal  king. 

Yes,  in  the  almighty  Maker's  image  made, 


1 6  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Dominion  have  I  endless  as  his  crown, 

The  majesty  of  spirit  with  her  powers, 

The  rule  of  will,  the  kingship  of  the  soul. 

What  then,  a  petty  god  ?  a  finite  beam 

Flashed  from  the  essence  of  the  Infinite, 

A  wandering  particle  of  Deity, 

A  human  jet  of  consciousness  divine  ? 

Or  an  incorporate  and  essential  part 

Of  the  great  All  divinely  everywhere  ? 

Or  so  possessed  and  quickened,  so  impelled 

By  necessary  virtue,  as  to  make 

My  heart  and  life  a  mirror  of  the  heavens, 

However  darkly  glooming,  and  alike, 

Robed  in  whatever  hue,  divinely  pure, 

Without  a  sin,  or  sinning  holily, 

With  sin  and  holiness  in  issue  one, 

Alike  advancement  to  the  perfect  goal  ? 

Ah  no  !     Philosophy,  so  noble,  when 
Taught  reverently  to  bear  the  train  of  Heaven, 
And  show  the  glory  in  celestial  things, 
How  pitiful,  when  turned  to  blasphemy, 
Pander  to  pride,  high  minister  of  death, 
Blasting  the  blessed  hope,  and  fain  to  cast 
For  ever  down  the  throne  of  holiness  ! 
The  Lord  rebuke  and  chasten,  till  the  schools, 


THE  EDIFICE.  17 

In  meek  and  reverent  reason,  lowly  bent, 
Find  the  true  way  of  wisdom  at  his  feet, 
The  way  of  wisdom  in  simplicity. 

Alone  in  majesty,  Eternal  King, 
Infinity  of  person,  with  a  will, 
Heart,  purpose,  being,  glory,  all  his  own ; 
Maker,  unmade  ;  pervading  all,  distinct ; 
Holding  each  atom,  and  the  highest  throne 
With  boundless  empire  filling :  not  a  part 
Of  this  pure  Essence  am  I,  only  like, 
With  infinite  lack  ;  of  him,  yet  personal, 
As  though  the  only  person ;  still  myself, 
Through  every  worse  or  better  ;  with  a  mind, 
Will,  reason,  passion,  purpose,  all  my  own, 
In  my  subjection;  imaged  in  his  glass; 
His  fashion,  not  his  fullness.     Thus  endued, 
Fresh  from  his  sovereign  moulding,  he  did  send 
My  spirit  forth  to  duty,  in  my  field 
Freely  each  gift  and  faculty  to  use 
For  blessing  or  a  curse :  in  his  dear  love 
Supreme,  to  serve  with  cheerful  benefit, 
Humility  of  worship,  glad  content, 
Rich  fruit  of  sacrifice,  unceasing  toil ; 
Patiently  leaning  on  his  promised  care, 
And  all  my  way  a  radiance  of  his  light, 


THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT. 

Till  crowned  on  high  in  triumph,  with  the  white 

Garments,  and  palms  of  victory,  and  the  songs 

Of  ages  in  immortal  blessedness. 

Or  perish,  if  I  will ;  will  rudely  mar 

His  image,  and  the  holy  banner  trail 

To  the  rebellious  infamy  of  sin ; 

Adopt  in  bosom  love  his  enemies ; 

Defile  my  vestal  raiment,  shamelessly 

In  wanton  pleasures  wallow,  sear  my  sense 

With  passion's  hot  caressing,  and  prepare 

To  toss  in  quenchless  flame ;  my  hardened  heart 

Never  to  melt  in  tender  penitence  ; 

Hurling  the  horrid  shafts  of  blasphemy, 

Bitter,  revengeful,  desperate,  accursed ; 

Reaping  the  terror,  till  my  deathless  soul 

Know  the  dread  meaning  of  the  wrath  of  God. 

O  Immortality !  my  sleepless  mate, 
My  birth-right,  and  my  strong  necessity  ; 
To  thee  I  am  wedded  for  the  endless  race, 
And,  never  nearing  the  retreating  goal, 
Without  release,  the  fateful  angel  time 
Bearing  me  on  his  unrelenting  wing, 
Must  onward,  onward,  onward  evermore. 
Onward  !  and  whither,  whither,  O  my  soul  ? 
O  fearful  function  of  imperial  choice  1 


THE  EDIFICE.  19 

O  moment,  spring  of  an  eternal  sea ! 
Onward  !  still  onward  !  whither  shall  it  be  ? 
To  heavenly  glory  ?  roam  the  happy  fields 
Above  the  highest  star?  and  glow  afresh 
When  suns  have  burnt  to  ashes  ?  and  be  young 
With  hoary  ages  on  thee,  more  and  more 
Burning  in  love  of  God,  and  growing  still 
Nearer  and  nearer  to  the  perfect  throne  ? 
Or  fall  ?  and,  like  the  hapless  aeronaut 
Out  of  the  azure  plunging  to  the  deep, 
Into  the  foaming  surge  of  ruin  plunge ; 
Deeper  and  swifter,  down  for  evermore ; 
Hardening  into  perpetual  character 
Of  proud  defiance,  grim  iniquity ; 
And  heavier  growing  with  increasing  hate 
Against  the  heavenly  majesty  and  love, 
Against  the  holy  purpose  and  command, 
Till  thou  the  hellish  pinions  emulate, 
While  blacker,  swifter,  deadlier,  ever  rolls 
The  stream  of  justice  in  avenging  woe  ? 
Answer  !  and  all  the  coming  ages  will 
Declare  thy  wisdom,  or  thy  folly  prove. 


BOOK    II. 

THE     RUINS. 


Man's  fall  measured  by  his  height  of  privilege  and  power.  Perfection  re 
quired.  Selfishness  the  law  of  ruin.  Ambition.  Mammon.  Pleasure. 
Infidelity.  Polluted  sacrifices.  The  corrupt  heart  in  willing  bondage. 
Conscience  aroused  in  dreadful  apprehension.  Selfish  prayer  vain  to  help ; 
sceptical  denial  vain.  Horrors  of  despair;  not  crushed  by  defiance,  nor 
drowned  in  pleasures.  Better  lew  than  many  stripes;  better  to  appease 
than  defy  the  judgment.  Good  deeds  not  atonement ;  nor  festivity  peace ; 
nor  knowledge  salvation.  A  saintly  messenger.  Fearful  wrestle  with  the 
tempter.  Better  to  live  without  hope,  than  hurry  to  hell.  No  help  but  in 


God. 


The  higher,  falling,  will  the  deeper  fall, 
And  carry  havoc  on  a  swifter  wing. 
The  mountain  plumbs  the  sea ;  heaven  the  abyss. 
The  archangel  makes  the  Satan.     Should  God  sin, 
'Twould  shake  the  universe,  beget  a  fiend 
Too  dreadful  to  conceive.     So  that  far  height 
Of  privilege  and  duty,  stamp  of  heaven, 
Power  of  sweet  service,  measures  my  sad  fall ; 
Wreck  of  the  lightning,  like  a  stately  tower 
Throned  in  the  hills,  now  smitten  to  the  ground, 

20 


THE   RUINS.  21 

Because  I  could,  and  would  not.     All  the  pride 

And  matchless  grace  lie  mingled  with  the  dust ; 

For  sin  has  battered  at  the  noble  walls, 

And  nothing  left  but  ruins.     All  along 

Lie  fragments  of  the  glory,  and  the  flame 

Of  passion  has  swept  through,  and  rebel  lusts 

Have  thrown  the  lofty  beauty  down,  and  made 

God's  temple  the  foul  satyr's  theatre, 

A  lair  of  beasts,  a  haunt  of  spirits  accursed. 

"  Cursed  is  he  who  keeps  not  all  the  Law ! " 
In  startling  thunder,  thus  the  rigid  voice 
Sounds  from  the  empyrean.     All  the  Law ! 
A  thought  refused,  or  purpose,  is  not  all, 
And  all  is  everlasting.     God  must  hold 
His  mandates  honored  to  the  perfect  end ; 
Maintain  the  jot,  or  abdicate  the  crown. 
The  arch  is  ruins  if  one  stone  default, 
The  city  ashes  with  one  spark  supreme ; 
So  one  transgression  breaks  the  encircling  Law, 
And  sin,  but  kindled,  will  consume  the  whole. 
Pluck  a  forbidden  flower,  the  eternal  pen 
Writes  condemnation,  and  the  bruise  of  love 
Festers  to  fearful  hatred.     Innocence 
Lives  only  in  the  sweet  and  guileless  air, 
And  dies  with  every  taint.     One  guilty  step, 


22  THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT. 

Unless  arrested  by  almighty  grace, 
Is  from  a  precipice,  whose  sheer  abyss 
Is  an  eternal  plunge.     The  perfect  One, 
Who  cannot  swerve  from  even  righteousness, 
And  marks  the  circles  with  his  character, 
Must  have  perfection  in  the  heavenly  claim, 
And  pays  the  glory  of  a  just  reward 
Only  as  full  obedience  wins  the  crown. 
He  weighs  me,  and  my  purpose,  in  the  scales 
That  weigh  the  angels  and  unswerving  suns, 
And  all  the  dust  of  difference  is  my  guilt, 
Below  the  level  virtue  of  his  love. 

Not  once,  alas !  but  thrice  a  million  fold, 
So  widely  wandering  from  the  perfect  way, 
I  fail  to  fill  the  standard  of  the  Law; 
And  sins  unnumbered  dedicate  to  death 
My  guilty  soul.     For  every  action,  aim, 
Affection,  purpose,  motive,  thought,  desire, 
Through  the  swift  history  of  my  crowded  years, 
Has  rendered  slack  obedience,  or  defied 
The  heavenly  mandate  and  my  bosom's  lord ; 
And  not  a  perfect  moment  condescends 
Its  holy  splendor  on  my  life  to  throw. 
My  duty  measures  and  convicts  my  guilt ; 
Duty,  as  vast  as  my  capacity, 


THE  RUINS.  23 

And  guilt,  as  thorough  as  my  lack  of  love. 

For  I  have  made  myself  my  glorious  sun ; 

Set  up  my  petty  will  against  the  heavens ; 

Despised  immortal  duty ;  dared  rebel, 

Trample  the  truth,  anoint  the  hideous  lie,  , 

And  guage  the  universe  to  suit  the  pith 

Of  my  portentous' pride.     The  crown  of  love, 

Due  only  to  the  uncreated  King, 

Upon  a  creature  I  have  set,  enthroned 

A  devil  even  in  the  seat  of  Heaven ; 

Have  robbed  my  Maker,  and  in  place  of  all 

Have  worse  than  nothing  for  his  goodness  given ; 

Have  taken  daily  bounty,  naught  returned ; 

Been  thankless,  when  my  every  breath  was  grace, 

And  every  motion  mercy ;  have  conspired, 

Against  his  right,  with  bitter  enemies, 

To  keep  my  heart  and  talent  to  myself 

In  littleness  of  life.     Oh  !  how  it  takes 

From  other  thefts  the  blush,  and  viler  still 

Makes  the  sneak  viper  meanness,  when  the  blest 

The  blesser  robs,  the  helpless  helping  hands, 

The  priest  the  altar,  petted  children  home, 

Judas  the  bag  of  Christ,  and  needy  man 

The  bounteous  Giver ;  in  the  flush  of  good, 

In  the  excelling  greatness  of  His  love, 

With  rude  contempt,  or  base  forgetfulness, 


24  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

To  take  the  throne  not  merely,  but  the  dust 
Upon  the  footstool,  lofty  thoughts  and  deeds 
Not  merely,  but  the  atoms  and  the  sighs, 
To  hold  in  petty  greed  of  selfishness, 
And  not  a  pulse  or  purpose  use  for  God ! 
So  have  I,  in  such  consecration  vile, 
Even  to  the  vulgar  idols  of  the  world 
Bent  the  devotion  to  Jehovah  due. 

For  I  have  been  Ambition's  votary, 
In  mimic  of  the  infernal  aspirant ; 
Unworthy,  to  a  worthy  place  to  climb, 
Taste  the  sweet  homage  to  successful  power, 
And  to  my  name  some  gleam  of  glory  gain ; 
Panting  for  honor,  till  the  honor  came 
Only  to  press  me  with  its  weary  weight, 
Or  mock  with  disappointment,  sharp  as  thorns, 
Of  scant  and  withered  laurel ;  satisfied, 
In  growing  appetite  and  weary  use, 
Not  with  the  power  and  plaudits  of  the  world. 

Or,  at  the  golden  feet  of  Mammon  bowed, 
I  have  for  blessing  but  invoked  a  curse, 
And  for  his  favor  tortured  poverty ; 
Drudging  for  gold,  sleepless  and  worn  and  wan ; 
Half  honest  for  advantage,  virtue  made 


THE   RUINS.  25 

Only  a  current  price  ;  seeking  to  win 
License  of  wealth  for  my  imperious  heart 
To  revel  in  the  envy  of  the  poor, 
And  throw  the  supercilious  dollar  down, 
And  glut  the  proud  and  lusty  luxury, 
Or,  with  a  miser's  relish,  gorge  my  eyes 
With  daily  banquet  of  my  dainty  gold  ; 
Delving  for  earth,  when  all  its  costly  weight 
Of  acres,  mines,  ships,  harvests,  factories, 
Bonds,  wardrobes,  jewels,  mansions  of  delight, 
Weighed  with  the  soul,  are  but  the  summer  dust, 
Or  dew  upon  the  sandals  of  the  morn  ; 
Buying  the  worthless  with  immortal  worth, 
When  not  a  dime  can  pass  the  marble  gate, 
And  one  quick  moment  strips  us  for  the  grave, 
And  only  heavenly  riches  reach  to  heaven. 

Or  I  have  been  a  silly  fly,  to  flit 
In  gaudy  Pleasure's  fascinating  glare, 
The  dupe  of  passion,  singed  with  wanton  fires ; 
Seeking  with  empty  gayety  to  sate 
The  immortal  hunger,  and  the  precious  life 
Laugh  off  in  folly,  as  though  death  and  doom, 
Relentless,  were  not  pressing  at  the  door. 
Fool !  to  be  ravished  with  a  thrill  of  sense ; 
The  giddy  fever  of  an  hour ;  the  hot 


26  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Whirl  of  the  lustful  revelry ;  the  foul 

Banter,  leer,  action  of  the  vicious  scene, 

Stage  of  pollution  ;  the  voluptuous  song, 

The  noblest  angels  draggling  in  the  mire  ; 

The  noxious  tale  of  passion,  through  the  thoughts 

Like  a  miasma  floating,  darkly  aimed 

Fair  purity  to  deflour ;  the  beastly  rout 

And  license,  cursed  orgies  of  the  cup, 

And  revel  unto  ruin  :  mad  on  mirth, 

And  fierce  to  crowd  the  mighty  hours  along, 

So  tedious,  to  the  limp  and  hollow  soul, 

In  wisdom's  sober  ways  of  pleasantness. 

With  a  rude  reason,  pluming  pompously 
Her  sickly  wit,  how  have  I  wantoned  through 
Heaven's  holy  messages  in  mockery ; 
For  pastime,  or  pretense,  or  devilish  wrench 
To  twist  the  hated  wisdom  into  lies ; 
Making  the  evil  good,  the  bitter  sweet, 
The  narrow  broad,  and  my  own  wishes  key 
To  prophet,  law,  apostle,  Son  of  God ; 
My  lust  the  vile  inspirer,  till  the  Word 
Reeked  with  my  error,  and  the  dreadful  sense 
Of  sacrilege  and  baseness  almost  heard 
The  thunder  bellow,  and  the  lightning  felt 
Leaping  avenged  from  the  polluted  page ! 


THE   RUINS.  27 

And  I  the  gift  of  fools  have  sacrificed ; 
Have  mocked  in  worship,  on  the  altar  laid 
The  lame  and  sickly ;  to  the  ear  of  Heaven 
Poured  my  polluted  prayer  without  a  breath 
Of  faith  or  love  to  sweeten  ;  dared  present 
The  fetid  flame  for  incense,  and  expect, 
From  the  insulted  Majesty,  return 
Of  favor  and  reward ;  nay,  from  my  knees 
With  curl  of  scorn  have  risen,  in  contempt 
That  I  should  so  demean  my  noble  pride, 
And  call  to  earless  nothing,  or  attempt 
To  hoodwink  fate,  and  change  the  changeless  plan 
That  binds  the  world  in  iron,  or  flatter  Heaven 
More  to  bestow  than  heavenly  love  would  give 
Without  the  begging  of  a  word  or  sigh, 
Or  weakly  supplicate,  for  any  work, 
For  sufferance  or  for  battle,  higher  help 
Than  my  sufficient  function  :  till  my  thought, 
Uttered  or  silent,  grew  in  blasphemy. 

Is  there  a  spirit  in  the  list  of  wrong, 
Haunting  the  ruins  of  humanity, 
Whose  cunning  knock  has  not  a  welcome  found 
And  entertainment  in  my  guilty  love  ? 
However  fair  the  sepulchre  without, 
Within  are  gastly  relics  of  decay : 


28  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

However  like  a  palace  outwardly, 
Figured  with  all  devices  of  delight, 
I  am  a  cage  of  unclean  birds,  a  den 
Of  ugly  monsters,  —  hatred,  lust,  deceit, 
Pride,  malice,  envy,  jealousy,  revenge. 
For  with  my  foes  have  I  my  fortress  filled, 
And  thrown  my  gates  wide  to  my  enemies. 
My  thoughts  are  sins  ;  my  wishes  trespasses  ; 
My  looks  transgressions  ;  my  neglects  misdeeds  : 
Yea,  in  the  holy  mirror,  truly  seen, 
In  the  bright  glass  of  heavenly  purity, 
Infernal  features  stare  me  eye  to  eye. 
And  all  my  life  is  like  a  ruined  waste, 
Where  spirits  of  evil  at  their  pleasure  haunt. 

O  -Sin,  my  tyrant !  willingly  thy  slave, 
Yet  have  I  found  thy  fetters  hard  as  iron, 
Cruel  as  bloody  lashes,  sharp  as- fire, 
The  bondage  of  a  flattering  wretchedness  ; 
Thorns  with  the  sweetest  flowers,  the  stinging  stab 
Beneath  the  fond  caresses,  the  undertone 
Of  sighs  and  groans  amid  the  melody, 
And  ashes  of  my  hopes.     When  wilt  thou  give 
My  weary  spirit  freedom  to  her  peace  ? 
I  hate  thee,  while  I  love  the  alluring  tune 
To  which  my  passion  dances.     Let  me  go  I 


THE  RUINS.  29 

Count  the  sad  past  sufficient.     Let  me  go ! 
And  I  will  yet  recast  my  chain  in  gold, 
To  bind  me  ever  to  the  throne  of  God. 

No  !  God  is  angry,  and  his  furious  breath 
Will  from  his  presence,  like  a  whirlwind,  blast 
The  ensigns  of  the  wicked.     He  will  sweep 
With  burning  besom,  from  his  holy  sight, 
The  smallest  sinful  dust  that  dare  pollute 
The  pavement  of  his  glory.     But  my  sin 
Stands  like  a  mountain,  with  accursed  top 
As  high  as  heaven,  and  will  in  season  burn, 
Like  a  volcano,  with  consuming  fire. 
He  knows  my  deepest  secret,  and  must  loathe 
Completely,  as  he  clearly  sees  within 
The  hideous  working  of  my  wickedness. 
He  loves  the  righteous,  and  iniquity 
With  equal  heat  must  hate.     Prepare,  my  soul ! 
To  meet  a  God  incensed.     See !  all  in  smoke 
Great  Sinai  thunders,  and  the  lightnings  flash 
Like  flaming  swords  the  threatening  of  the  throne. 
Lo  !  the  dread  judgment  struggles  to  let  loose 
The  rumbling  wheels  of  terror,  to  convey 
Justice,  superb  and  stern  in  righteousness, 
Unending  battle  with  my  peace  to  wage, 
And  thus  pursue  me  with  its  banishment : 


30  THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT. 

"  Go,  false,  unfaithful  spirit !  to  thy  place, 
The  place  of  terror  and  eternal  doom 
In  burning  chains  of  darkness,  with  the  fiends 
To  mingle  in  accursed  fellowship, 
And  rage  in  endless  rancor  of  revenge. 
There  wrestle  with  remorse,  and  in  despair 
Think  of  thy  squandered  hopes,  and  feel  the  worm 
Of  conscience  gnawing  unrelentingly, 
The  fire  of  passion  feeding  on  itself, 
The  torture  of  a  sleepless  memory; 
While  distant  hallelujahs  echo  down 
Measures  of  bitter  anguish,  and  thy  God 
Himself  is  present  as  the  sharpest  pang, 
Remembered  in  his  slighted  benefits." 

"  O  cruel  sentence  !  judgment  pitiless  !" 
Whispers  the  grim  deceiver  to  my  soul, 
"  Can  it  be  right  ?     Is  this  the  boasted  love, 
Thus  to  pursue  for  ever  ?  this  the  God, 
Whose  generous  presence  fills  the  world  with  good  ? 
A  father  ?     What !  and  bend  his  fury  thus 
Against  an  erring  child,  and  every  hope, 
Comfort  of  peace,  joy  of  felicity, 
Blast  with  relentless  vengeance  ?     Heart  of  steel ! 
Injustice  on  a  throne  of  adamant! " 


THE  RUINS.  31 

"  Hush,  bitter  serpent ! "  thus  in  wide  amaze 
I  answer,  "  all  thy  venom  only  burns 
The  deep  wound  deeper.     Thy  perverse  discharge 
Bruises  me  sorely,  harmless  to  the  heavens. 
The  curse  may  not  be  cureless.     This  1  know, 
The  iron  hate,  the  brazen  blasphemy, 
Will  chain  in  heavier  fetters.     It  is  right, 
Yes,  to  the  last  ache  of  the  penalty. 
Against  myself  I  will  the  truth  defend ; 
Confess,  though  my  confession  be  my  judge, 
Confirm  the  finding  of  the  court  divine. 
I  will  be  honest,  let  who  will  be  false ; 
Fair  in  my  evidence,  let  law  be  law, 
And  conscience  to  her  heavy  duty  true, 
Owning  the  judgment  just.     Yes,  it  is  right. 
My  own,  own  hand,  it  smote  me,  struck  the  sting 
That  in  my  bosom  rankles.     Were  it  wrong, 
Then  could  I  suffer  with  exultant  joy. 
But  suffering  justly,  — there  the  sword  cuts  home  ; 
And  every  tongue  of  torture  tells  its  tale 
Of  righteous  anguish  for  unrighteousness. 
Let  holy  law,  the  throne  eternal  stand, 
Whatever  creature  perish.     Government, 
Without  its  penalty,  is  a  petty  farce ; 
And  everlasting  justice,  blemished,  worse 
Than  worlds  in  ruin.     More  is  deathless  right 


32  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Than  all  the  nations  that  by  sufferance  live ; 
Jehovah,  than  the  boundless  universe, 
Were  all  its  atoms  angels.     Love  to  one, 
Unrighteously,  is  wrong  to  both,  to  all, 
Wrong  to  the  loved  and  lover.     With  the  need, 
To  hold  the  blow  is  all  the  heavier  blow ; 
And  unjust  fondness,  conscience's  lullaby, 
Plucking  the  righteous  terror  from  the  rod, 
Is  bitter  cruelty.     For  justice  breathes 
WTith  love  the  selfsame  law,  the  selfsame  sword 
Wields,  and  ensanguines  in  eternal  blood. 
I  will  be  honest,  candid  to  the  right, 
And  honor  justice  while  her  blows  descend. 
Better  be  true  in  hell,  than  false  in  heaven." 

"  Is  there  no  hope  ?  in  soft  repentance  none  ?  " 
Thus  gently  steals  a  whisper  to  my  heart, 
"  None  in  petition  ?  none  in  sacrifice  ? 
Why  with  the  black  Despair  so  soon  clasp  hands  ? 
Ask,  and  thou  shalt  receive ;  seek,  thou  shalt  find; 
Knock,  and  the  heavenly  gate  will  open  wide." 

"  Ah !  I  will  try  that  promise,  put  to  proof 
Prayer's  boasted  virtue,  and  with  suppliant  seige 
Assail  the  offended  throne;  or  know  indeed 
If  beggar  knees  may  win  the  immortal  crown. 


THE   RUINS.  33 

0  glorious  ease  !  if  one  may  live  by  tears, 
And  waft  his  spirit  to  glory  with  a  sigh." 

Then  in  the  dust,  prostrate  and  proud,  I  pour 
Through  weary  hours  the  sacrificial  cry, 
Cheap  groans  of  expiation,  selfish  pleas, 
And  strive  the  dark  and  silent  throne  to  force, 
And  open  heaven  with  tears,  that  seethe  and  hiss 
Upon  my  fiery  fear,  and  send  aloft, 
For  incense,  heavy  clouds  that  only  hide 
The  heavens  in  deeper  darkness,  and  thus  seem 
To  thunder  back  an  answer  to  my  prayer: 
"  I  called  ;  thou  hast  refused,  my  counsel  scorned, 
My  knowledge  hated,  my  reproof  despised  : 
Now,  like  a  whirlwind  though  destruction  come. 
Distress,  and  anguish,  and  terrific  dread, 

1  mock  thy  terror,  thy  calamity 

I  laugh  at,  will  not  answer  to  thy  call. 

So  eat  the  bitter  fruit  of  thine  own  way, 

And  with  thine  own  devices  be  thou  filled. 

Too  late  lament  thy  squandered  heritage. 

The  limit  passed,  what  can  repentance  now  ? 

How  seize  again  lost  opportunity  ? 

Too  late  !  the  door  is  shut :  too  late,  too  late  !" 

"  O  dreadful  fate  !  the  gate  of  mercy  closed, 


34  THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT. 

So  quickly  bolted  to  my  pressing  hand, 

And  no  admittance  for  my  guiltiness. 

Oh !  can  it  be  ?    Kind  Heaven !  reverse  the  doom ; 

Quench  not  the  everlasting  pity,  bend 

A  tender  eye  upon  my  wretchedness, 

Nor  leave  me  to  the  wrestling  of  despair." 

But  all  is  silent  as  a  sepulchre, 

Save  the  quick  throbbing  of  the  sullen  sea 

In  the  pent  caverns  of  my  misery. 

"  Oh  !  then,  farewell,  farewell  the  suppliant  sigh, 
The  pleading  prayer  !  it  is  but  mockery, 
And  only  arms  the  vengeance.     Farewell,  tears ! 
That  hither  bring  no  more  your  blessed  freight 
Of  pardon  from  the  sky.     Be  dry  henceforth, 
My  eyes  !  as  eyes  of  death  ;  let  sorrow  drink 
Your  fountain,  like  a  desert.     Farewell,  hope  ! 
Farewell  for  ever,  peace  and  happiness  ! 
That  vainly  I  have  sought,  with  sinful  charms, 
To  win  to  my  devout  society. 
Farewell,  obedience,  duty,  righteousness, 
The  holy  longing,  the  immortal  joy ! 
Farewell  the  heavenly  home,  the  company 
Angelic,  and  the  vision  of  the  Lord, 
The  vision  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  !  " 
And  my  hard  heart,  as  obdurate  as  flint, 


THE  RUINS.  35 

Seems,  ever  harder,  from  my  iron  thoughts 

To  strike  the  testy  spark,  enkindling  more 

The  tinder  of  my  torture,  more  and  more 

In  the  hot  fever  of  remorseful  pain. 

And  weary  hours  of  watching,  day  and  night, 

Scan  the  lost  past,  and  grimly  gather  up 

The  hideous  items  of  a  misspent  life  ; 

Or  labor  at  the  sceptic's  hopeless  oar, 

Without  a  rudder,  compass,  star,  to  drive 

My  fragile  bark  upon  a  raging  sea ; 

Or  try  the  god,  with  main  and  forceful  hand 

To  smooth  the  troubled  deep.     But  still  it  roars  ; 

And,  like  a  whirlwind,  but  a  moment  bound, 

With  tenfold  power  and  pressure,  rushes  back 

The  truth  of  God,  to  stir  a  deeper  storm. 

O  horror  of  a  life  that  hopeless  lives, 
Feeding  on  phantoms,  which  avenging  fear 
Breeds  in  the  guilty  bosom  !     Direful  dreams 
Infest  the  restless  night ;  and,  hot  and  chill, 
The  feverish  slumber  starts.     The  dreary  days 
Drag  heavily,  longer  than  happy  years, 
Under  the  crushing  weight  of  gloomy  thoughts, 
That  brood  and  brood,  and  all  the  lurid  past, 
From  the  first  ardent  morning  to  the  frost 
That  nipped  the  latest  promise,  thickly  strew 


3 6  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

With  wrecks  of  hopes  and  ashes  of  regret : 

While  the  dark  future  stretches  black  as  night, 

And  bellows  dismal  thunder  through  the  soul. 

The  very  good  is  evil,  blessings  turn 

To  torture,  and  the  bitter  than  the  sweet 

Is  sweeter  to  my  fevered  appetite. 

Nay,  from  the  Scriptures,  sent  in  benison, 

Leaps  agony,  and  from  the  loving  page 

More  than  the  threatening ;  from  whose  holy  face 

Shrinking,  as  from  the  presence  of  one  wronged, 

Whose  shining  feature  is  a  sharper  pang, 

Vainly  the  letter,  not  the  voice  I  hide, 

Still  in  the  darkness  heard.     The  Sabbath  bells 

Ring  anguish,  and  entice  my  vagrant  feet 

To  festive  scenes  of  prayer,  to  sit  on  thorns, 

Tortured  with  worship.     Music,  barbed  with  joy, 

Like  golden  arrows  pierces  ;  and  the  heart, 

Jangled  and  tuneless  with  its  turbulence, 

Makes  discord  of  the  sweetest  harmony. 

The  dearest  thought  returns  the  heaviest  woe  ; 

And  from  the  walls  and  windows  saintly  eyes 

Look,  in  their  pictures,  with  a  sad  rebuke, 

As  on  a  wretch,  who  vilely  threw  away 

The  pearl  and  privilege  of  their  blessedness. 

The  merry  voices,  faces  of  content, 

Bird,  flower  and  sunshine,  every  pleasant  thing, 


THE   RUINS.  37 

With  the  harsh  dissonance  of  my  doleful  soul 
Jar,  like  a  pure  note  to  an  instrument 
Out  of  all  tune ;  while  every  dismal  haunt, 
Storm,  tumult,  midnight,  riot,  burning,  wreck, 
In  bad  delight  of  apt  society, 
Has  some  refreshment  for  my  wretchedness  ; 
And  more  of  hell  is  more  of  heaven  to  me. 
The  dogs  I  envy,  and  the  burdened  beast, 
The  drudge,  the  beggar,  or  apostate  vile, 
Not  yet  forsaken  of  the  cheer  and  hope, 
Not  yet  abandoned  to  the  grim  despair. 
And  all  the  walls  seem,  as  I  walk  along, 
Ready  to  crush  me,  and  the  heavens  above 
To  drop  their  burning  bolts,  and  earth  beneath 
To  open,  and  with  greedy  jaws  devour 
Another  Korah,  living,  to  the  abyss. 
Conscience. awake,  hope  dead, —  this,  this  is  hell ! 

Then,  crimped  with  sneers,  with  haggard  passion 

wan, 

Comes  one  with  this  profane  advice  :  "  Be  brave ! 
And  with  unflinching  courage  meet  thy  fate, 
Whatever  Heaven  may  threaten.     Arm  thee  well 
With  proof  of  firm  defiance.     Bar  thy  breast 
Against  the  brunt  of  'conscience,  and  perforce 
Expel  the  stern  intruder.     Piping  fear 


38  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Quench  in  a  hotter  passion  ;  crush  the  woe ; 

Stifle  the  mutterings  of  tormenting  guilt ; 

And  in  the  giddy  vortex  of  the  world 

Drown  silly  apprehension.     Seize  the  day  ! 

And,  losing  heaven,  now  sate  thee  with  the  earth." 

"  No  !  "  to  the  tempter  thus  the  quick  reply, 
With  open  courtesy,  with  deep  contempt, 
"  Thy  smooth  advice  with  greater  death  is  rank, 
Staring  upon  me  with  a  desperate  eye. 
What !  gild  the  black  with  ebon  ?  entertain 
The  poor  mocked  heart  with  bitter  mockery  ? 
Cure  the  sad  soul  with  doleful  medicine  ? 
Quench  fire  with  fierce  infusion  of  its  flame  ? 
Is  "woe  the  less,  with  all  its  garniture 
And  gorgeous  trappings  of  luxurious  pomp  ? 
The  cruel  world  !  I  fear  it,  as  one  fears 
The  fascination  of  the  basilisk  ; 
As  one,  just  stung,  the  stinging  adder  dreads. 
What !  gayly  court  destruction  ?  while  the  wound 
Rankles  with  venom,  madly  hurry  back 
To  dally  with  the  scorpion  ?  feed  afresh 
The  hungry  conscience  gnawing  at  the  heart  ? 
Still  the  tormentor,  only  more  to  rouse 
Refreshed  for  vengeance,  till  the  slumbering  years 
Wake  in  the  endless  watching  of  remorse  ? 


THE  RUINS.  39 

Is  nothing  wiser  ?     Prudence  !  what  advice  >  *' 

Then,  half  angelic,  half  the  breath  of  hell, 
I  hear  the  whisper  of  Expedience : 
"  Go  to  thy  doom,  on  the  dread  errand  go, 
Unburdened  with  a  needless  penalty. 
There's  method  even  in  sinning,  room  for  heed 
Even  in  the  dire  perdition.     Why,  why  arm 
Eternal  conscience  with  unneeded  ire  ? 
Enough,  enough  already.     How  endure 
The  present  pang  for  ever  ?  how,  if  strung 
To  tenfold  pitch  of  fury  ?     Make  amends, 
Sooner  than  court  new  wrath ;  better  appease, 
Even  with  the  cold  reluctant  check  of  guilt, 
Than  still  defy  the  judgment.     Try,  at  least ; 
And  henceforth  be  a  blessing,  though  in  tears, 
And  kiss  the  hand  that  smites  thee.     It  may  be, 
Thy  life  hereafter,  in  a  noble  strain, 
And  stint  of  sinning,  will  the  past  atone." 

"  How  sin  no  more,  when  sinning  is  the  blood 
And  sovereign  feature  of  a  heart  accursed  ? 
With  varnished  wrong  make  recompense  for  wrong? 
How  shall  the  spotted  hand  atone  ?  how  bear 
Another's  guilt,  and  cannot  bear  its  own  ? 
Oh !  gladly  I  the  meanest  soul  would  bless, 


40  THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT. 

In  lowliest  service  toil,  till  the  hard  rock 
For  pittances  of  harvest,  bear  the  cross 
With  an  exultant  suffering,  could  I  go 
Of  heavenly  favor  hopeful,  and  not  sink 
In  deeper  billows,  and  enkindle  more 
His  wrath  who  needs  not  devils  in  his  train, 
But  holy  servants,  from  the  very  stones 
Able  to  raise  them  up.     Then  what  avail 
The  deeds  of  blessing,  that  make  no  amends, 
But  curse,  without  the  cure  of  holy  love ; 
And,  noblest,  cannot  bear  their  own  offence, 
But  need  the  rescue  of  a  higher  help  ? 
Yet  to  sit  idly,  and  with  empty  hands 
Turn  from  the  waiting  fields,  is  guiltier  still. 
Oh  then,  nor  tireless  toil,  nor  fruitless  days, 
Nor  doing  everything,  nor  nothing  done,  — 
How  am  I  smothered  in  my  impotence  ! 
Yet  what  is  there  beside  ?  and  all  is  sin ; 
Sin,  till  the  fallen  soul  is  formed  anew, 
And  the  heart  captive  to  the  will  of  Heaven." 

So  mused  the  long  hours,  sorrowful  and  lone. 
Then  bastard  Kindness,  fashioned  to  the  world, 
Her  utmost  office  tries,  with  stress  of  cheer 
To  dupe  the  sad  heart  with  society, 
The  loaded  table,  and  the  festive  scene ; 


THE  RUINS.  41 

With  sumptuous  air  to  draw  the  anguish  out, 
And  force  a  mirth,  which  bitterly  will  know 
The  outward  is  not  sterling  cheerfulness. 
The  sad  may  frolic,  laugh  the  wounded  heart, 
And  devils  dance  in  wretched  revelry. 
The  kind  hand  smothers,  not  appeases  woe, 
With  the  gay  trappings  of  external  joy, 
While  deep  beneath  the  sullen  torture  burns. 
Ah  !  sweet  content  makes  high  festivity, 
With  ministering  angels  and  a  crust, 
And  all  things  answered  to  inquiring  Heaven. 

Then  stately  Learning  comes,  with  ponderous  lore, 
To  argue  into  blessing,  tenfold  press 
Knowledge  already  known,  unload  the  heart 
By  incubus  of  tomes.     But  precepts  wise, 
However  freely  freighted  with  the  truth, 
In  their  dry  essence,  are  not  living  bread 
For  hunger  unto  death.     'Tis  not  to  know, 
But  to  know  warmly,  with  a  pregnant  fire, 
That  kindles  into  life  ;  while  the  cold  hand 
Of  frigid  doctrine  freezes  more  and  more, 
Solidifying  to  its  heartlessness. 
Oh  !  vain  the  knowledge,  vain  the  lofty  thought, 
And  the  imperial  press  of  argument, 
Without  the  lucid  teaching  of  the  sky, 


42  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

The  soul  from  its  dark  bondage  to  unbind. 

And  on  the  crowded  shelves  of  libraries 

Run  feet  of  furies,  with  the  holy  print 

Of  steps  angelic  in  the  messages 

Of  light ;  not  light,  unless  toward  heaven  above 

A  window  open  for  the  beams  of  God. 

And  now,  at  length,  a  saintly  messenger 
Comes  with  a  wealth  of  rich  experience, 
Warmly  to  urge,  plead  with  impassioned  prayer, 
And  point  with  tender  gladness  to  the  path 
Himself  has  trod,  bright  with  the  promises, 
And  safe  for  every  foot.     Upon  his  brow 
Peace  finely  sits  ;  and  from  his  gentle  lips 
Persuasion  sweetly  flows  ;  and  in  his  tongue, 
With  happy  confidence,  faith  boldly  boasts, 
And  triumphs  in  her  hope.    "  But  what  hast  thou," 
Answers  my  faithless  to  his  faithful  word, 
"  Whose  fair  life  budded  from  the  virtuous  seed, 
With  scarce  a  germ  or  rudiment  of  wrong 
To  blossom  in  the  untainted  atmosphere, 
In  common  with  my  ripeness  ?     Show  me  one, 
Sunk  to  my  depth,  who  ever  rose  to  God, 
And  gladly  will  I  follow.     Wise  art  thou, 
Because  in  season  wise.     Thy  faith  enjoy, 
And  drink  the  daily  comfort  of  thy  hope, 


THE  RUINS.  43 

Heir  of  eternal  bliss.     But  how  to  me 

Can  the  bright  angels  bring  their  blessedness, 

With  years  of  folly  crusted  on  my  heart, 

So  thick  and  strong,  the  happy  feet  are  barred 

Above  it,  as  upon  a  frozen  sea 

An  army  glides  ?  What  hope,  when  to  my  need 

No  hopeful  comfort  speaks  ;  no  heavenly  hand 

Builds  in  my  ruin  ;  by  the  mercy-seat 

No  golden  censer  with  my  incense  smokes ; 

No  promise,  with  the  music  of  its  good, 

Sounds  in  my  thirsty  ear  ;  no  gracious  voice, 

Through  earth  resounding,  reaches  to  my  soul, 

Below  the  reach  of  mercy  ?     Else  why  hides 

God  his  dear  face  in  darkness  ?  why  the  joy 

Runs  everywhere  but  hither  ?  why  in  vain 

Is  Heaven  implored,  and  only  Hell  replies  ? 

Sweet  peace  desired,  while  from  a  deeper  spring 

Daily  I  draw  the  dregs  of  bitterness  ? " 

Then,  black  as  midnight,  shuts   the   darkness 

round 

In  a  temptation  fiercest  of  them  all, 
Thus  urging  home  its  fearful  remedy : 
"  Die  then  at  once ;  and  the  long  struggle  end 
With  one  sharp  stroke.     Come,  bravely  cast  away, 
Down  to  the  oblivious  chambers,  such  a  life, 


44  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

So  vile,  forsaken,  comfortless,  accursed, 
Which  in  some  darker  day  of  crime  may  close. 
Accomplished  in  the  Devil's  ministry. 
Thine  is  thy  life,  to  keep  or  consummate. 
Who  gave  thee  being,  gave  it  to  thy  will, 
To  use  at  pleasure.     Choose  a  valiant  fate. 
Curse  God,  and  die ;  and  end  the  direful  doubt 
Even  with  perdition.     Meet  him  face  to  face 
With  charges  of  thy  cruel  destiny. 
Or,  it  may  be,  there  is  no  hell  but  earth." 

Then,  as  one  sinking  wrestles  with  the  sea, 
Braces  his  lips,  and  beats  the  greedy  wave, 
So,  with  clenched  teeth  to  hold  the  blasphemy, 
I  wrestle  with  the  Tempter  :     "  No,  false  fiend  ! 
Who  gave  me  being  shall  its  breath  command, 
And  quench  the  flame  He  kindled.    Days,  be  long  ! 
The  darkest  earth  to  hell  itself  is  bright, 
With  some  reprieve  of  anguish.     Here  I  may 
Some  moments  sleep  in  worn  forgetfulness, 
Not  sleepless  torture.     Here  I  may  receive 
Some  blessing  from  His  goodness  yet,  whose  sun 
Even  on  the  evil  rises.     Here  I  may 
Some  little  mercy  render  to  my  kind, 
And  warn  them  of  thee,  Liar !  by  my  fate, 
And  so  my  fate  avenge.     By  thy  deceit, 


THE  RUINS.  45 

My  soul  I  threw  away.     My  flesh  I'll  hold, 
And,  to  my  power,  nurse  it  to  utmost  age, 
And  keep  thee,  long  as  may  be,  from  the  hour 
Of  full  possession,  when,  in  utter  woe, 
With  thee  I  drink  the  fiery  cup  of  wrath, 
And  wrestle  with  my  dread  eternity." 

Thus  hopelessly,  alone,  guilt  struggles  on 
With  darkness  and  despair;  and  vainly  strives 
The  heavy  shackles  of  its  misery 
To  loosen,  till  a  higher  help  Divine 
Order  the  sweet  release.     Thus  human  aid, 
With  utmost  prowess  of  its  sympathy, 
Fails  in  the  effort  to  create  anew 
The  shattered  ruin.     Deeper  still  the  night, 
And  the  tossed  spirit  restless  roams,  and  glides 
A  spectre  in  the  darkness,  till  the  day 
Dawn  from  above.     Thus  all  the  arguments 
Of  truth  and  hope,  bent  with  the  skill  of  love, 
Glance  from  the  tempered  shield  of  unbelief, 
Hard  braced  against  the  heavens,  —  impervious, 
Till  God  himself  shall  wing  the  gracious  shaft, 
And  sin  surrender  to  its  Conqueror. 


BOOK    III. 
THE     NEW     FOUNDATION. 

The  Son  of  God,  as  Mediator,  seen  in  glory.  Addressing  the  Father,  he 
declares  why  the  chosen  soul  is  left  awhile  in  darkness  and  anguish  ;  claims 
it  as  his  own  ;  sends  the  Spirit  to  renew.  Sudden  dawn  of  light.  The 
plan  of  salvation  unrolls  in  glorious  brightness.  Christ  in  symbol  and 
prophecy.  His  advent ;  life  and  works  ;  sufferings  and  death  ;  resurrec 
tion  and  ascension.  Faith  accepts  the  heavenly  grace  by  the  Cross,  and 
there  rests.  The  happy  effect. 

Up  through  the  gloom,  by  gracious  guidance  led, 
Above  the  smoke  and  din  of  earth  afar, 
I  mount  in  vision  to  the  realms  of  light, 
And  look  within  the  City.     By  the  throne 
Eternal,  at  the  right  hand  of  all  power, 
As  high  enthroned,  in  equal  lustre  bright ; 
With  priestly  robes  arrayed,  and  royalty 
Of  many  crowns,  and  rod  of  endless  rule ; 
His  eyes  as  fire,  his  countenance  as  the  sun, 
His  every  feature  like  a  sea  of  love ; 
In  infinite  glow  of  beauty,  glorified 
In  human  form  and  majesty  divine, 
46 


THE   NEW   FOUNDATION.  47 

I  see  the  Lamb  of  God.     Before  him  bend 

The  thronging  seraphim  and  radiant  shapes 

Of  angels,  numberless  as  autumn  leaves, 

With  golden  crowns  and  harps  of  happy  praise, 

Exultant  in  their  worship.     But  he  seems, 

Above  all  else,  intent  to  magnify 

The  glory  of  his  priesthood,  mediate 

Between  the  Throne  and  earth,  and  fill  the  ranks 

Of  his  redemption.     And  I  seem  to  hear 

Some  of  familiar  sound,  and  many  strange, 

Among  the  names  upon  his  gracious  lips 

In  intercession  for  the  guilty  life ; 

With  incense  of  a  sacrifice  so  sweet 

It  fills  the  world  with  fragrance  ;  while  his  hands 

Glow  with  the  crimson  tincture  of  the  cross  : 

And  then  my  own,  startled  to  hear  my  name 

Sounded  in  heaven.     For  now  his  beaming  eye 

Bends  on  me,  with  a  deeper  tenderness 

Than  ever  mother  for  her  first-born  felt, 

As  from  the  pages  of  the  Book  of  Life, 

Spread  like  a  sky  begemmed  with  golden  fires, 

To  me  he  turns,  then  to  the  Father's  ear, 

And  utters  thus  his  interceding  plea : 

"  Father  supreme  !  whose  love  ineffible 
Has  sought  by  me  to  save  the  guilty,  crown 


48  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Our  throne  with  richer  glory,  and  extend 

The  bliss  of  these  bright  mansions,  in  this  scroll 

Of  life,  from  all  the  ages  given  me,  burns 

The  name  of  yonder  wretched  wreck  of  guilt, 

Tossed  and  confounded  in  the  bitter  storm 

Of  sharp  and  hopeless  woe.     Him  have  I  left 

To  human  wisdom,  human  help,  to  brood 

Awhile  in  darkness,  till  he  thoroughly, 

As  with  a  pen  of  iron  engraven,  learn 

His  sin,  his  weakness,  and  his  vital  need 

Of  my  redemptive  hand  ;  that  faith  henceforth 

In  me  may  root  supremely,  may  defy 

The  subtile  edge  of  Satan,  make  the  storm 

Enroot  it  only  more,  and  never  fail 

In  fruitfulness  of  good.     I  claim  him  mine. 

I  bore  him  in  my  heart  before  the  worlds, 

And  in  my  heart  to  earth  and  Calvary ; 

Now  would  I  bear  him  to  my  glorious  throne. 

I  claim  him  by  my  purchase,  by  thy  gift, 

By  our  eternal  counsel.     Deep  though  fallen 

He  lies,  and  with  dark  billows  overwhelmed, 

Deeper  thy  grace,  and  thy  rich  mercy  more 

Than  justice  in  his  death  ;  justice  set  free 

To  justify  through  my  victorious  cross. 

It  is  enough.     The  written  hour  is  come 

For  Heaven  to  stoop,  and  lift  the  fallen  up 


THE  NEW   FOUNDATION.  49 

To  fellowship  for  ever.     Blot  his  past, 

Erase  the  hideous  tincture  of  his  guilt, 

And  I  will  answer.     Crucified  with  me, 

Henceforth  in  holy  newness  let  him  walk, 

Safe  from  the  power  of  evil.     Raise  his  death 

To  immortality,  and  his  despair 

To  an  exultant  hope.     Fly,  Spirit,  fly ! 

Renew  him  in  my  image,  and  restore 

His  ruin  in  the  beauty  of  my  life, 

In  growing  holiness,  till  he  attain 

The  perfect  heaven,  and  hope  to  glory  come 

In  white  robes  of  eternal  festival." 

As  when  one,  fast  in  slumber  and  the  thrall 
Of  fearful  dreams,  till  the  bright  hours  are  high, 
Roused  by  a  gentle  hand,  the  curtain  drawn, 
Starts  at  the  sudden  light;  so  I  at  length, 
Touched  by  renewing  grace,  the  veil  removed, 
From  lethargy  awoke,  and  dreadful  night, 
To  unexpected  day.     The  gracious  heavens, 
At  His  command,  opened  their  radiant  brow, 
Like  the  first  dawn  from  darkness,  as  the  face 
Of  Jesus  rose  upon  me,  full  of  light, 
A  sun  no  more  to  set.     Now  all  is  clear. 
For  now  the  Scriptures  are  an  open  glass, 
And  Christ  the  interpretation,  and  the  Cross 


5°  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Key  to  the  hidden  treasure.     Prophecy 
Ripens  its  meaning.     Every  altar  burns 
With  sacrificial  figures  of  the  true, 
The  bloody  index  of  the  coming  Lamb, 
And  incense  redolent  of  redeeming  love. 
I  saw  it  all,  and  ran  the  wonder  through, 
Along  the  crimson  line  of  history, 
From  Eden  to  the  consummating  Cross, 
And  took  the  promise  home.     I  felt  the  plan, 
And  the  strong  pulses  of  eternal  love 
Bearing  me  like  a  sea,  and  in  the  hand, 
Red  with  the  shining  hue  of  sacrifice, 
Ransom  and  pardon  for  my  guiltiness, 
However  black,  if  I  will  lay  it  there, 
And  take,  so  freely  given,  the  offered  grace. 
And  as  from  some  high  station,  clear  of  clouds, 
By  dearth  of  prospect  quickened  to  the  view, 
One  sees  the  morning  rise,  and  far  and  near, 
In  bright  procession  to  the  advancing  light, 
The  beauteous  hosts  of  things  in  outline  fair 
Fill  the  horizon ;  so,  as  faith  awoke, 
And  the  dark  letter  gave  its  spirit  forth, 
And  Heaven  unsealed  my  blindness,  on  my  sight 
The  gracious  truth  broke  sweetly,  and  I  saw 
The  glorious  vision  of  redemption  pass. 


THE   NEW   FOUNDATION.  51 

The  sovereign  Father,  in  eternal  light, 
With  infinite  pity  for  the  wayward  world, 
Cursed  in  the  onset  of  rebellious  wrong, 
Planned  the  high  counsel  to  adorn  his  crown 
With  wreaths  of  glory  from  the  fields  of  grace, 
Immortal  trophies  from  the  ranks  of  death, 
And  reign  Redeemer.     Down  the  glorious  thought 
Comes  sounding  through  the  ages,  making  rich 
Heaven  with  its  music,  and  the  earth  as  sweet 
As  incense  from  the  promised  benison, 
Folding  its  virtue  back.     I  hear  it  speak 
To  the  first  sinners  of  the  guilty  race, 
The  unborn  parents  of  a  Birth  Divine, 
Whose  bruise  will  be  the  healing  of  their  wound, 
And  make  the  thorny  blossom  with  the  rose, 
The  dark  with  promise  brighter,  to  sustain, 
Against  the  serpent  and  the  flaming  sword, 
Their  doleful  fortune  in  their  banishment. 
I  hear  it,  in  the  patriarchal  years, 
Comfort  the  pilgrim,  and  his  faith  enrich 
With  heritage  on  high,  and  all  his  way, 
However  lone  and  foreign,  homeward  guide 
Where  the  eternal  Builder  has  prepared 
A  City  with  foundations.     By  the  Mount, 
Ablaze  and  quaking  with  the  fiery  law, 
I  see  it  plant  its  standard,  and  erect 


52  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

• 

A  Zion  in  the  wilderness ;  leap  forth 

In  living  water  from  the  smitten  rock, 

Imparadising  deserts  ;  drop  in  dew 

Of  nightly  manna,  and  with  angels'  food 

Feeding  the  rebels ;  on  the  altar  burn, 

And  pour  itself  in  rivers  from  the  veins 

Of  sacrificial  victims,  and  alone, 

Clad  in  high-priestly  vestments,  yearly  stand, 

With  sprinkled  blood  and  smoking  incense  sweet, 

To  make  atonement  for  a  nation's  sins, 

Within  the  Holiest  Place :  with  shadows  thick 

Forecasting,  through  the  ages  typical, 

The  coming  glory  of  the  Sacrifice, 

Whose  death  is  sum  of  all.     I  hear  it  sound 

From  the  rapt  prophet,  with  his  harp  of  harps 

Tuned  to  the  measures  of  the  mighty  song, 

And  his  quick  vision,  by  the  light  of  God, 

Catching  the  distant  splendor,  and  his  soul 

Filled  with  the  Spirit  and  the  fire  Divine, 

And  glory  of  the  grace,  till  all  breaks  forth 

In  sounding  praise  and  promise,  with  a  voice 

So  rich  and  clear,  so  sweet  and  musical, 

So  strong  and  glad,  the  angels  are  entranced, 

The  earth  astonished,  and  Jehovah  pleased. 

Now  dawns  the  day  of  promise,  and  the  Sun 


THE  NEW  FOUNDATION.  $3 

Hastes  to  his  rising,  eager  by  delay 

To  gather  all  the  shadows  in  his  wings, 

And  scatter  light  and  immortality 

Upon  the  waiting  nations.     From  the  throne 

Eternal,  from  the  mystery  Divine, 

Triple  society  in  One,  most  dear 

In  infinite  communion,  God  of  God, 

With  splendor  veiled,  celestial  riches  left, 

Emptied  and  weak,  all  fullness  yet  concealed 

Under  the  humble  flesh  of  his  descent, 

Immanuel  stoops  to  men.     I  see  him  now, 

Wondrously  born,  and  worshipped  wondrously 

By  heavenly  host  and  star  intelligent 

To  guide  the  eastern  sages  with  their  gifts 

Of  orient  treasure  to  his  princely  feet, 

With  lowly  shelter,  in  a  manger  laid, 

Unroyal  cradle  of  the  King  of  kings, 

The  infant  Son  of  God ;  in  childhood,  ripe 

In  filial  honor,  subject  to  his  home, 

Yet  with  a  wisdom  older  than  the  scribes 

Baffling  the  Temple ;  by  the  Jordan  wave, 

Writh  water  and  the  Spirit  and  the  Voice 

Baptized  and  consecrated  and  confessed, 

Commencing  his  great  manhood  and  the  work 

To  found  the  Heavenly  Kingdom  ;  pressing  on, 

In  zeal  of  word  and  suffering,  to  fulfill 


54  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

The  Father's  vast  commission.     Weary,  sad, 

Oppressed,  despised,  afflicted,  patiently 

He  bears  a  daily  cross  before  the  cross, 

Drinks  many  a  bitter  cup  before  the  last. 

Tempted  and  victor,  God  and  man  at  stake, 

The  glorious  prize,  as  of  two  wrestling  worlds, 

He  wrings  from  furious  Hell.     With  holy  fire, 

With  Sinai  in  his  breath,  and  law  ablaze, 

The  proud  he  scorches,  and  the  hypocrites 

Crimps  with  his  burning  scorn ;  with  gracious  lips, 

Tender  and  sweet  as  Heaven  itself  in  love, 

Blesses  with  peace  and  comfort  every  heart 

Of  humble  need  and  trust ;  with  words  of  light, 

Like  a  new  orb  arisen,  and  the  old 

Retired  and  burnished  in  his  glowing  tongue, 

Illustrates  God  and  nature,  earth  and  heaven, 

Law,  life  and  duty,  and  the  human  soul 

Fixes  in  truthfulness  of  guilt  and  need, 

So  clearly,  even  the  echoes  of  his  voice 

Are  still  the  richest  legacy  of  truth 

From  Truth  itself  to  men.     The  deepest  heart 

With  faultless  search  he  ranges,  every  thought 

Brings  captive  from  its  wildest  phantasy ; 

Hallows  the  night  with  prayer,  the  mountain  top 

With  grand  society  and  majesty 

Of  his  transfigured  glory ;  while  the  earth, 


THE   NEW   FOUNDATION.  55 

Blessed  in  her  needy  thousands,  sees  his  power, 

And  tastes  his  benediction.     Devils  flee. 

The  loosened  prisoner  leaps  and  laughs  again. 

The  fever  cools  its  fiery  turbulence, 

And  peace  expels  the  fury.     Leprosy 

Gives  up  its  hideous  banquet ;  sightless  eyes, 

Their  stubborn  darkness  ;  inarticulate  tongues, 

Their  dumb  inaction  ;  silent  ears,  their  hush 

Of  awful  stillness  ;  withered,  blighted  limbs, 

Their  nerveless  impotence  ;  even  Death  himself, 

In  grim  reluctance,  from  captivity 

The  victims  of  his  chains,  —  obedient 

To  the  same  voice  that  binds  the  blustering  winds, 

And   smooths   the    sea   to    pavement;    while  the 

poor, 

In  higher  bliss  of  healing,  freely  hear 
The  everlasting  gospel.     So  it  fares, 
Through  suffering  years  of  blessing,  till  the  end, 
The  birth-throe  of  a  world  from  guilt  to  grace, 
Comes  on  in  glorious  horror,  and  the  Lamb, 
In  meek  submission,  spotless  innocence, 
Is  ready,  all  the  shadows  to  complete, 
Alone,  in  one  redemptive  sacrifice. 

And  now  I  see  Him,  in  the  garden,  bowed 
In  the  deep  loneliness  and  darkness,  bowed 


THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Under  the  guilty  burden  of  the  world, 

Bowed  to  the  struggle,  while  the  messages 

Of  bloody  sweat,  in  great  red  drops,  announce 

The  fearful  conflict.     And  with  tearful  cry 

He  wrestles  in  his  urgent  agony, 

That  the  dread  cup  may  pass,  yet  willingly 

Will  drink  it  to  the  dregs ;  prevailing  so 

By  strength  imparted  for  the  draught  of  death  ; 

Submission  victor,  and  the  heavenly  love 

In  human  triumph  crowned.     And  my  sad  heart, 

By  contemplation  softening  to  the  mood, 

Beats  fast  in  sorrowing  sympathy,  to  see 

The  Master  watching  so,  and  they  asleep, 

The  nearest  fellows  of  his  ministry, 

Who,  weary,  yet  might  watch  one  hour,  nor  need 

The  willing  spirit  to  excuse  the  flesh. 

But,  lo  !  upon  the  atoning  scene  appears, 

Lanterned  and  weaponed  as  against  a  thief, 

The  soldier  crew  profane,  and  in  the  front 

The  avaricious  lips  of  treachery, 

To  lay  their  hideous  falseness  on  the  face 

Dear  to  the  kiss  of  angels,  and  with  awe, 

Like  lightning,  casting  headlong  to  the  ground 

The  rude  rough  men  of  arms.     While  timid  love 

Flees  to  the  covert  of  her  fears,  and  leaves 

The  faithful  Shepherd  to  the  howling  wolves. 


THE   NEW   FOUNDATION.  57 

I  see  him  now,  Lord  of  his  enemies, 
Their  gentle  captive,  to  his  trial  dragged, 
With  malice  witness,  and  with  weakness  judge  ; 
Bandied  from  priest  to  king,  till  hate  of  years 
Grows  friendly  in  the  courtesy  of  wrong ; 
With  oaths  denied,  belied  with  blasphemy ; 
Robed  in  empurpled  insult,  crowned  with  thorns, 
Hailed  with  false  knees,  the  pomp  of  mimic  state, 
Derisive  reverence,  mockery  of  love  ; 
Smitten  with  brutal  buffets,  spit  upon, 
Scourged,  with  a  rudeness  rougher  than  the  rod ; 
Rejected,  and  a  murderer  preferred, 
Red-handed  guilt  to  guiltless  innocence, 
With  frenzy  of  self-cursing,  soon  to  come, 
A  tide  too  deep  to  fathom.     Yet,  withal, 
Great  in  unanswering  meekness,  not  a  word, 
No  look  of  anger,  not  a  sign  to  show 
A  hushed  Omnipotence,  but  with  sweet  force 
Holding  the  ready  legions,  and  the  hour 
To  bannered  darkness  yielding,  like  a  sheep 
Dumb  in  her  shearer's  hand,  in  willing  pangs 
He  suffers,  suffers  to  the  dreadful  end, 
In  full  obedience  of  his  holiness. 

Then,  from  the  judgment  and  the  furious  cry, 
Its  fearful  purpose  won,  sorely  bewailed 


58  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

By  those  who  had  more  cause  themselves  to  mourn, 

Their  sad  cheeks  scalding  with  the  bitter  flow, 

I  see'Him  bear  his  cross,  and  rudely  fall, 

Weak  with  the  torturing  night ;  the  cruel  nails 

At  their  hard  office,  and  the  tree  of  shame 

Its  bloody  branches  stretching  to  the  world, 

Red  with  the  ripe  redemption,  fruit  of  grace  ; 

The  heavenly  clusters  bruised,  and  hands  Divine 

To  malefactors  offering  the  new  cup 

Of  the  fresh  vintage  ;  envy,  malice,  hate, 

Like  lions  loose,  shaking  their  haughty  manes, 

And  raging  in  their  fancied  victory. 

But  as  upon  some  rough  tumultuous  scene, 

Mixed  of  the  storm  and  sunshine,  bursts  the  bow, 

Arched  in  its  gorgeous  drapery  of  hues 

Up  to  the  top  of  heaven,  prevenient  sign 

Of  mercy,  mercy  in  her  fairest  mood, 

Above  the  howling  wrath ;  so  on  this  dark 

Background  of  fury  and  infernal  cloud, 

Out  of  the  setting  Sun,  bright  passages 

Of  glory  break,  an  arch  of  majesty, 

Filling  the  world  with  light,  —  the  numbing  myrrh, 

In  pity  offered  to  the  quivering  lips, 

Refused  in  deeper  pity ;  the  dear  thought 

Of  her,  whose  presence  comforts  even  the  cross, 

Pierced  with  his  pangs,  and  tenderly  bequeathed, 


THE  NEW  FOUNDATION.  59 

Love's  last  bequest  to  love  ;  the  dying  thief, 
First  with  the  fresh  blood  sprinkled  to  the  hope 
Of  paradise  that  day ;  and,  over  all, 
The  gracious  cry,  the  echo  of  the  Throne, 
The  key  and  temper  of  the  wondrous  hour, 
"  Father,  forgive  ;  they  know  not  what  they  do  !  " 
Forgive  !  and  all  the  earth  and  heavens  are  filled 
With  the  prevailing  sweetness  of  that  prayer, 
Still  through  the  ages  pleading,  answered  still. 

Now,  with  the  slow  hours,  and  the  iron  Sin 
Treading  its  bloody  vintage,  darkness  comes  ; 
Comes  in  impending  horror,  in  the  pall 
Upon  the  mourning  heavens  in  sympathy ; 
Comes  in  the  cloud  upon  the  heavenly  throne, 
The  silence  to  his  strong  necessity, 
The  heaviest  stroke,  pressing  the  plaintive  wail : 
"  My  God,  my  God  !  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? " 
Then,  all  fulfilled,  even  to  the  utmost  pang, 
Prophecy,  purpose,  duty,  sacrifice, 
Like  the  low  thunder  from  the  murky  dome, 
Or  shout  of  noble  onset,  breaks  aloud 
The  dying  cry  of  victory,  death  and  hell 
Defeated  in  their  triumph,  "It  is  done  !" 
And  the  great  Victor  bows  his  head  and  dies, 
His  work  all  finished,  and  the  world  redeemed. 


60  THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT. 

Earth  is  convulsed,  and  through  her  rocky  nerves 
A  shudder  shoots,  and  the  fast-anchored  hills 
Reel  like  the  sea.     The  temple  veil  is  rent, 
To  all  the  Holiest  opening,  and  the  ark 
Of  mercy  to  the  world,  to  every  man 
Priesthood  before  the  altar.     Stony  graves 
Gape  wide,  and  from  their  sleep  the  sainted  dead, 
Touched  with  the  might  and  meaning  of  the  hour, 
Awake,  and  wait  the  footsteps  of  their  Lord, 
To  follow  forth  to  life,  earnest  and  proof 
Of  resurrection  with  the  risen  Christ ; 
That,  mightier  still  than  death,  the  dark  domain 
He  has  invaded,  who  unbinds  those  chains, 
And  will  at  last  the  captive  world  unbind. 

Dead !  but  not  dead  the  passion  of  the  wrong, 
As  now  the  cruel  message  of  the  spear 
Follows  the  flying  spirit.     With  this  stroke, 
Deep  to  the  very  heart,  making  the  Rock 
Gush  with  the  gracious  fountain,  and  the  last 
The  holy  body  at  the  hands  of  sin 
Shall  ever  suffer,  love  resumes  control, 
And  lays  it  sadly  in  the  fragrant  tomb, 
To  rest  the  quiet  Sabbath,  till  the  dawn 
Of  the  first  day,  to  be  for  ever  first 
By  consecration  of  the  risen  Lord. 


THE  NEW  FOUNDATION.  6 1 

He  sleeps  in  peace ;  and  round  him,  like  a  sea, 
Surges  the  tide  of  disappointed  grief, 
And  angry  chafing  of  the  sullen  storm ; 
While  Hate  exults,  and  with  her  double  guard 
Means  to  retain  her  victim.     But,  behold  ! 
At  the  full  hour,  and  spring  of  early  dawn, 
With  earthquake,  and  attendant  ministry 
Of  shining  wings,  the  Lord  of  life  and  death 
Bursts  the  cold  fetters  and  imprisoning  night 
Forth  to  eternal  day,  great  Conqueror, 
No  more,  no  more  to  bear  the  deadly  bruise 
And  stamp  of  mortal  woe  ;  with  power  complete 
To  wear  the  nations  for  his  diadem 
In  majesty  cf  grace.     Before  his  steps, 
In  blazing  raiment,  back  an  angel  rolls 
The  stony  door,  that  love  may  enter  in, 
After  her  tears  and  weary  wandering, 
With  lowly  faith  to  rest,  and  rise  again 
In  newness  of  immortal  blessedness. 

Now,  as  the  highest  summits  catch  the  first 
Beams  of  returning  morning,  and  are  bathed 
In  the  warm  splendor,  while  the  valleys  lie 
Chill  in  the  dew  and  darkness,  so  the  hearts 
Nearest  to  heaven,  on  that  refulgent  morn, 
The  women  early  at  the  sepulchre, 


62  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Are  first  to  feel  the  risen  radiance, 
Dry  up  their  tears,  and  brighten  into  joy, 
While  the  slow  unbelief  is  sorrowing  on. 
But  swift  feet  bring  the  resurrection  news, 
And  Christ  comes  after,  till  the  flock  forlorn 
Know,  in  the  open  vision  of  his  face, 
The  Lord  is  risen  indeed,  and  witnesses 
Become  of  this  exultant  fact,  with  faith 
So  strong,  unmoved  by  every  threatening, 
It  still  confesses  in  the  eye  of  death. 

Then  joyfully,  as  from  a  sea  of  tears 
Joy  rises,  sunlike,  with  a  brighter  wing, 
To  show  the  dark  dominion  overpast, 
The  risen  Savior,  wonderful,  I  see, 
Not  as  an  apparition  of  the  air, 
But  in  the  solid  fact  of  intercourse, 
In  every  change  the  same,  the  very  form 
In  thorough  substance  ;  in  and  forth,  at  will, 
Like  spirit,  through  the  close-barred  entrances, 
As  through  the  crystal  wall  the  piercing  light; 
In  sweet  companionship  confirming  faith  ; 
Arguing  his  open  wounds,  from  doubting  lips 
To  draw  confession  of  his  Deity ; 
Breathing  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  solemn  power 
To  bind  or  loosen,  ratified  in  heaven, 


THE  NEW   FOUNDATION.  63 

And  bear  the  key  of  mortal  destiny  ; 

Opening  the  Scriptures,  showing  the  shining  veins 

Of  prophecy  all  crimson  with  his  blood, 

And  altars  quivering  with  his  agony ; 

Marshalling  the  little  band  for  victory, 

With  grace  and  promise  and  the  great  command, 

Helped  from  on  high,  the  nations  all  to  teach 

Holy  discipleship,  baptizing  them 

Into  the  three-fold  glorious  Name  Divine  ; 

Still  sounding  to  the  ears  of  unbelief 

The  alarm  of  peril,  and  the  bliss  of  faith, 

His  presence  with  them  always  to  the  end. 

Then,  even  as  at  the  last  He  will  appear, 
I  see  him  from  the  slope  of  Olivet, 
Borne  on  his  own  sweet  incense,  blessing  still, 
Out  of  the  wondering  circle  and  the  sphere 
Of  sorrow  and  humiliated  love, 
In  lustrous  pomp  and  radiant  state  ascend ; 
With  shouts  of  welcome,  and  angelic  songs 
Choiring  his  victories  ;  all  the  shining  way 
With  flowers  celestial  strewn,  and  gorgeous  clouds 
The  chariot  of  his  triumph  ;  seraphim 
In  fiery  ranks  attending,  stars  and  thrones 
In  bright  battalions,  and  the  blaze  of  God : 
Up  through  the  jubilant  armies,  and  the  gates 


THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

With  lavish  garlands  wreathed,  up  to  his  place, 

His  ancient  seat  with  added  lustre,  now 

To  reign  for  ever,  till  his  enemies 

Are  made  his  footstool,  and  his  glorious  Bride, 

Without  a  spot,  a  wrinkle,  or  defect, 

In  white  robes  of  his  crimson  purity, 

Is  to  his  bosom  gathered,  to  the  throne 

Of  blissful  honor  in  the  heavenly  home, 

Of  blissful  exultation  without  end. 

All  this  I  saw,  or  clearly  seemed  to  see, 
As  through  the  vision  faith  ran  breathless  on, 
And  to  my  need  high  Heaven  interpreted. 
The  letter  turned  to  spirit,  doubt  to  fact, 
Till  dead  belief,  in  hollow  words  entombed, 
Became  a  living  glory,  and  the  Sun 
Rose  in  resplendent  day.     And  as  a  bird 
After  the  tempest  to  the  brightness  sings, 
So,  weary  with  its  tumult,  my  sad  heart 
Is  with  the  glorious  revelation  turned 
From  murmuring  to  the  ecstasy  of  peace. 
The  storm  is  still ;  to  azure  melt  the  clouds  ; 
The  air  is  full  of  sweetness  ;  beauteous  wings 
Flash  in  the  joyous  sunlight ;  merrily 
Dance  the  bright  waters;  woods  in  chorus  sing, 
With  every  bird  and  twig  and  insect  tuned 


THE  NEW  FOUNDATION.  65 

To  my  rejoicing  spirit ;  all  the  way 

With  orient  beauty  bannered,  and  fair  Hope 

Alluring  with  her  festive  promises 

Of  earthly  blessing,  and  of  heaven  beyond. 

So  blest  it  was,  as  at  the  gracious  feet, 
In  lowly  trust,  in  penitence  and  love, 
Salvation  from  His  wounded  hands  I  took, 
In  all  its  wealth  of  mercy,  as  my  own 
Down  to  my  deepest  need,  my  blackest  guilt, 
To  clear  the  past,  the  future  days  to  bless 
With  purity  and  peace ;  and  knew  the  voice, 
"  Whoever  will,  life's  waters  let  him  drink," 
An  invitation  to  my  thirsty  soul, 
An  invitation  to  a  needy  world. 
Amazed  and  humbled  at  my  faithless  fear 
Lest  the  Throne  fail,  itself  in  gracious  pledge, 
I  drink,  I  bathe  me  in  the  living  stream, 
And  wash  my  garments  from  their  filthiness ; 
Press  boldly  to  the  bending  cherubim ; 
Dare  to  my  Father's  house  return  again, 
Accept  the  loving  welcome,  and  commence 
The  course  of  duty  open  to  my  steps 
Along  the  blissful  pathway  of  the  skies  : 
Helped  by  the  Dreamer,  most  of  human  helps, 
Whose  heart,  by  wondrous  discipline  of  grace 


66  THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT. 

Through  all  the  wide  experience  of  the  way, 
Taught  how  the  Pilgrim  the  fair 'City  gained, 
Pilgrim  himself  and  guide.     Nor  earth  alone 
In  sympathy  and  eloquence  of  love, 
But  heaven  itself  with  joy  angelic  burns, 
To  welcome  the  returning  wanderer, 
Another  harp  prepare,  another  throne 
Wheel  to  the  shining  pavement  of  the  blest, 
And  blend  my  worthless  with  the  immortal  names 
Upon  the  flaming  pages  of  the  Lamb. 


BOOK    IV. 
THE     HOLY     BUILDERS. 

The  glory  of  Solomon's  Temple.  The  spiritual  Temple  yet  more  glo 
rious.  "Built  in  the  divine  pattern,  by  heavenly  Builders.  The  Holy  Spirit, 
Architect  and  Director.  The  holy  Graces,  his  fruit  and  ministers.  Their 
beauty,  power  and  excellence.  Love.  Joy.  Peace.  Patience.  Gentle 
ness.  Courage.  Goodness.  Fidelity.  Meekness.  Temperance.  Hope. 
Humility.  Faith. 

How  beautiful  the  Temple,  and  how  grand, 
Where,  in  bright  cloud,  between  the  cherubim, 
God  on  the  golden  ark  of  mercy  sat, 
In  dread  expression  of  his  majesty  ! 
Marvel  of  buildings,  and  the  heavenly  plan 
In  gorgeous  architecture,  by  the  skill, 
The  wisdom  and  the  wealth  of  Solomon, 
The  great  precursor  of  a  greater  King ; 
Splendor  in  stone,  beauty  in  massy  form, 
Gold  and  sweet  cedar  wrought  in  art  divine, 
And  costly  grace  in  lavish  glory  piled ; 
For  God  to  dwell  in  and  be  daily  filled 
67 


THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

With  incense,  sacrifice  and  lofty  praise, 
Magnificence  of  worship,  types  of  grace, 
And  awful  glories  of  the  holy  Law. 

Above  Moriah  Zion  brightly  shines, 
The  world  to  win,  the  darkest  lands  illume 
With  radiance  of  a  richer  righteousness,. 
As  the  full  face  of  day  extinguishes 
Night's  twinkling  glories,  — Zion's  living  light, 
The  temple  of  the  holy  soul,  rebuilt 
From  nature's  direful  ruins,  every  stone 
Wrought  and  adorned  and  wonderfully  laid 
By  heavenly  fingers.     Deep  the  work  divine, 
Strong  and  puissant,  proof  against  the  storm, 
Cemented  with  the  purpose  to  endure 
Through  ages  everlasting,  and  again 
Never  to  reck  of  ruin  ;  Christ  the  rock, 
The  Spirit  the  gracious  architect,  and  man 
The  living  substance,  vital  with  the  life 
From  heaven  to  heaven.     The  noble  edifice, 
However  humble  now  and  incomplete, 
Will  grow  in  beauty,  splendor,  stateliness, 
Till,  to  the  topmost  pinnacle,  it  stands 
In  the  full  finish  of  immortal  grace, 
A  temple  worthy  of  the  glorious  King 
From  all  the  ages  building,  and  with  cost 


THE  HOLY   BUILDERS.  69 

Surpassing  worlds,  and  infinitely  met 

Only  from  his  own  throne  and  boundless  heart. 

The  holy  Graces  here,  the  fruit  divine, 
Are  fellow-builders  in  the  bounteous  art 
The  temple  to  erect,  which  now  alone 
Grows  as  they  grow,  and  rises  as  they  rise ; 
Fair  daughters  of  the  sky,  not  yet  complete, 
But  growing,  by  the  virtue  of  the  Lord, 
In  beauty,  sweetness,  lustrous  character, 
To  his  full  form  and  finish.     Not  alone, 
In  cold  self-seeking  solitude  of  work, 
Laboring  in  death,  but  with  the  Bridegroom  joined, 
In  union  deathless  as  immortal  love, 
They  glory ;  like  the  burning  seraphs  sing, 
Take  his  dear  hand  of  comfort  every  hour, 
Are  fruitful,  teem  with  living  righteousness, 
And,  by  his  luminous  communion,  shine 
More  and  more  purely  with  his  perfect  light, 
In  the  clear  image  of  his  excellence. 

O  choir  celestial  !  on  seraphic  wings 
Descending,  come,  attune  the  gracious  air 
Within  a  mortal  bosom,  and  afar 
Your  bliss  melodious  pour,  to  show  the  world 
How  heaven  may  dwell  in  earth,  and  holy  hands 


70  THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT. 

Build  a  fair  temple  in  the  flesh  of  time. 
A  worthy  wisdom  render,  and  preside 
In  every  tuneful  chord,  as  I  attempt 
Your  praise  to  sing,  your  bright  nobility. 
And  to  your  notes,  as  by  your  hands  of  help, 
In  happy  labor  let  the  building  rise. 

O  first  and  dearest,  Love  !  the  chief  delight  * 
And  glory  of  the  temple,  Queen  of  queens, 
Throned  with  a  sceptre  of  so  sweet  a  sway 
Thy  blows  are  blessings,  hand  in  hand  with  thee 
I  go  forth  godlike,  and  the  lowliest  life 
Of  duty  make  sublime.     The  roughest  path 
Is  smooth,  the  mountain  level,  cares  have  wings ; 
The  toiling  steps  go  singing,  and  the  cross 
Weighs  like  a  plume.     Thou  teachest  me  to  love 
The  humblest  work  of  God,  his  dust  of  power, 
And  fill  my  heart  with  insects,  birds  and  flowers, 
Whose  million  wings  the  Almighty  glory  waft, 
And  with  their  countless  perfumes  sweeten  praise; 
Not  less  than  with  creation's  grander  shapes, 
The  rainbow,  river,  forest,  mountain,  cloud, 
The  amazing  ocean,  and  the  flaming  worlds 
That  brightly  banner  heaven.     By  thee,  yet  more, 
I  love  my  mortal  fellow ;  love  as  thine, 
Eternal  Love  !  who  loved  to  Calvary ; 


THE   HOLY   BUILDERS.  71 

Love  for  the  potent  gleams  of  greatness  shown 
Even  in  his  ruin  ;  love  in  sin  and  shame, 
In  wrath  and  shipwreck,  in  the  direful  dark 
Midnight  of  madness,  in  the  fearful  rush 
And  riot  of  perdition,  in  the  hate 
Of  all  the  dearest  meaning  of  my  hopes, 
My  enemy  and  thine.     Yet  higher,  thou 
Thy  tender  favorites  teachest  me  to  take 
Into  a  deeper  bosom  of  desire  ; 
With  Christ,  the  master  magnet  of  the  heart, 
And  first  attraction  of  the  saintly  name ; 
In  him  arrayed,  the  image  of  his  grace, 
And  body  of  his  glory,  bringing  heaven 
With  daily  nearness  to  the  needy  earth ; 
The  brethren  of  celestial  fellowship, 
Comrades  of  toil,  partners  of  sacrifice, 
Devoted  embassy  to  human  weal, 
Heirs  of  immortal  state ;  the  glorious  Bride, 
In  grace  and  beauty  training  for  the  day 
Of  perfect  union  in  the  heavenly  home, 
Of  perfect  blessing  in  the  realms  of  bliss. 
Where,  in  resplendent  raiment  white  as  snow, 
In  radiant  likeness  of  the  loving  Lord, 
With  happy  service,  mighty  minstrelsy, 
Without  a  pang,  a  sigh,  a  groan,  a  tear, 
To  mar  the  goodly  glory,  we  shall  dwell 


72  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT, 

Together,  one  in  love,  in  love  enthroned 

Above  the  angels  though  by  sin  unscarred 

And  pure  with  holy  ages  of  renown, 

All  for  the  Master's  sake.     Whom,  more  than  all, 

Than  nature,  man,  friend,  holy  brotherhood, 

Savior  supreme,  I  will  supremely  love, 

And  make  the  centre  of  my  happy  world, 

Head  of  my  heart,  and  heart  of  all  my  heaven ; 

Worthy  to  wear  the  eternal  diadem 

Of  love,  of  blessing,  of  immortal  praise, 

One  with  the  Father  in  devotion  due  : 

The  Father,  object  of  the  warmest  flame, 

The  force  of  worlds,  the  sway  of  government, 

In  the  wise  pleasure  of  a  providence 

Minute  as  atoms,  boundless  as  the  spheres ; 

Great  in  the  moods  of  judgment,  greater  still 

In  the  abounding  reach  of  mercy ;  quick 

In  the  responsive  listening  to  our  need ; 

Source  of  all  good,  the  sea  of  all  delight, 

Supreme,  ineffable,  immortal  Love. 

And  loving  this  great  Being,  first  of  all 

The  hunger  of  the  soul  is  satisfied, 

The  largest  law  fulfilled,  and  still  the  heart 

So  wide  expanded  in  the  warm  embrace, 

That  all  things  worthy,  in  the  ample  room, 

Rest  in  a  warmer  welcome,  and  are  fed 


THE   HOLY   BUILDERS.  73 

With  richer  viands  of  the  feast  of  love. 

O  Grace  of  gladness,  come,  celestial  Joy  ! 
And  fill  the  temple  with  the  notes  of  bliss, 
The  music  of  redemption.     Let  the  song 
Build  with  the  builders,    every  living  stone 
Leap  in  the  rising  arches,  and  the  walls 
Grow  with  the  noble  rapture.     Sweet  the  smile, 
And  potent  in  its  beauty ;  and  the  heart 
Lays  its  fine  gems  in  joy.     Glad  is  the  hour 
Of  wedded  love,  and  dear  the  kiss  of  truth, 
And  friendship  blessed,  and  the  ringing  laugh 
Like  music,  and  the  cradle  garlanded, 
And  victory  glorious  with  exulting  bells, 
And  health  a  happiness,  and  ardent  work 
Jocund  with  zest  of  gain,  and  cultured  art 
Complacent  in  its  grace,  and  riches  grand 
In  all  the  pompous  elegance  of  ease, 
And  office  rank  with  honor,  and  the  praise 
Of  human  lips  a  cup  of  revelry. 
But  what  is  all  the  rapture  of  the  world, 
The  ecstasy  and  glory  of  an  hour, 
Quenched  in  eternal  night,  a  heaven  of  sin 
Compared  with  heaven  indeed  ?     The  holy  soul 
A  heavenly  palace  stands,  and  voices  pure 
Already  from  the  deepest  chambers  breathe 


74  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Celestial  cadence,  and  the  harps  of  earth 
Fill  with  the  resonance  of  immortal  joy  : 
Joy  from  the  sin  forgiven,  the  mortal  debt 
Canceled  for  ever  by  the  crimson  seal ; 
Joy  from  the  open  Scriptures,  luminous 
By  the  new  vision  of  the  heart  renewed  ; 
From  sovereign  goodness  seen  in  every  thing, 
Star,  tempest,  human  step,  ordered  and  held 
In  His  controlling  care ;  from  the  sweet  trust, 
The  weakness  leaning  on  the  strength  Divine, 
The  dear  communion,  the  enrapturing  thrill 
Of  high  devotion,  loving  sacrifice, 
The  sense  of  living  in  the  eye  of  God, 
And  all  our  way  his  wisdom.     From  afar, 
And  from  the  daily  circumstances,  throng 
Glad  messengers  of  mercy  to  announce 
The  never-failing  good.     Devoted  deeds 
The  Sabbath  hallow  ;  and  its  holy  aim 
Pours  through  the  busy  currents  of  the  week 
A  consecration,  whose  ennobled  gain 
Anoints  the  day  anew.     The  very  rod 
With  blessing  blossoms,  and  the  beaming  tears 
Mirror  the  heavens,  and  penitently  cast 
A  rainbow  on  the  storm  ;  lightened  by  love, 
Whose  sturdy  champion,  Duty,  ready  stands 
The  hardest  task  delighted  to  perform. 


THE   HOLY   BUILDERS.  75 

Conscience  is  friendly,  and  her  fiery  stings 

Turn  to  caresses.     Prayer,  with  favor  fraught, 

In  answer  joyous  from  the  Throne  returns, 

Throws  its  bright  halo  round  the  humblest  brow, 

And  with  its  strong  munitions  fortifies 

Against  the  wrath  and  roughness  of  the  world. 

And  how  the  heart  exults  the  lost  to  find, 

Alive  the  dead  to  bring,  the  wandering  sheep 

Back  safely  to  the  fold  !  while  rapture  thrills 

From  soul  to  soul  in  saintly  sympathy, 

Sings  with  the  spheres,  the  heavenly  harps  attunes 

To  higher  anthems.     With  ecstatic  glow 

The  bosom  burns  in  zeal  with  every  stroke 

To  hew  the  throne  of  Satan,  and  advance 

The  reign  of  truth,  the  sway  of  liberty, 

In  full  dominion  to  the  utmost  shore. 

Yea,  with  victorious  rapture  may  I  sing 

Even  in  the  sharp  advantages  of  death, 

And  triumph  at  the  portals  of  the  tomb  ; 

Exult  in  humble  hope,  the  anchor  cast 

Beyond  the  tempest,  safely  at  the  end, 

The  perils  past3  the  heavenly  haven  won, 

To  dwell  for  ever  in  the  light  of  God. 

And  thou,  Creation !  all  in  sympathy 
With  man's  redemption,  waiting  to  be  free, 


76  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

With  the  full  chorus  of  thy  symphonies 

Swell  the  rejoicing  song.     Ye  prisoned  tongues! 

Burst  your  cold  fetters  for  the  fervid  strain 

That  fills  the  roughest  lips  with  eloquence. 

Sing,    sing,   ye  feathery  hosts !    Sing,  murmuring 

rills ! 

In  silvery  cadence  to  the  bending  flowers. 
Leap,    ye   high   hills !    with  bosoms  flecked  with 

flocks, 
And    wave   your   woody   garlands.       Mountains ! 

where 

The  tempests  riot  in  rude  revelry, 
Turn  to  majestic  hymns.     Tune,  billowy  seas  ! 
Your  hoarse  notes  to  a  milder  melody. 
Clouds  !  peal  in  anthem  ;  roll,  ye  thunder-tones  ! 
In  mighty  volume,  like  the  voice  of  God. 
Ye  forests !  with  a  thousand  pipes  repeat 
The  sounding  diapason  of  the  air, 
And,  to  the  winds  that  roam  the  firmament, 
Break  forth  in  rapture  of  the  gracious  morn. 
But  more,  if  rigid  Nature  finds  a  tongue, 
Yet  more,  O  happy  voice  !  exult,  exult, 
Out  of  the  living  temple.     Sing,  glad  heart ! 
With  fervor  strong  melodious  passion  pour, 
To  match  the  music  of  the  joyful  skies, 
And  sound  to  all  the  wretched,  weary  world, 


THE    HOLY   BUILDERS.       .  77 

What  rich  delight,  what  comfort,  what  content, 
Await  the  new  devotion.     Glow,  like  fire 
From  smouldering  ashes  breathing  liberty, 
O  soul  set  free  !     O  victor  over  sin  ! 
Now  triumph  in  your  happy  festival, 
And,  with  unending  ardor,  celebrate 
Your  jubilee  of  freedom.     Shout  afar: 
"  Hear,  ye  bright  stars,  ye  sons  of  glory  !  who 
Creation's  morning  sang  with  mighty  lays ; 
With  you  I  am  immortal,  and  will  sing 
A  new  creation  greater  than  your  song, 
Above  your  harps,  in  ransomed  ecstasy, 
And  pour  a  note,  whose  rich  triumphant  joy 
Will  crown  the  endless  anthems  of  the  blest." 

And  now,  fair  Peace  !  the  living  temple  stands 
A  sacred  Janus,  with  its  folded  doors 
Shut  to  the  warring  passions,  still  from  strife, 
Thy  calm  abode.     And  through  the  quiet  air 
The  dove  flies  on  soft  pinions,  and  her  nest 
Builds  high  among  the  arches,  where  the  noise 
Of  the  rude  world  is  in  tranquility 
Hushed,  like  the  waters  when  the  winds  have  fled, 

The  tumult  ceases,  and  the  angry  sky, 
Hoarse  with  dire  thunder,  petulant  with  storm, 


78  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Is  soothed  in  sunshine.    And  the  grim  wrought  sea, 
^   Vexed  with  the  fury  of  embattled  winds, 
And  rough  with  foaming  coursers,  racing  on 
In  the  wild  whirl  of  waters,  now  at  rest, 
Mirrors  the  heavens,  smiles  to  the  quiet  shore, 
Pets  the  trim  vessel,  and  in  safety  bears 
The  singing  seamen  to  their  destined  port, 
With  dolphins  sporting  in  the  buried  storm. 
And  in  the  fields,  furrowed  with  plows  of  war, 
Where  battle,  hot  with  hate,  and  drenched  in  gore, 
Struggled  in  death,  now  silver  lilies  grow, 
The  sweet  birds  fly  and  sing,  and  the  rich  year 
Yields  her  broad  harvests  to  the  hand  of  peace. 
So  peaceful  is  it,  when  the  Prince  of  Peace 
Unholy  strife  expels,  and  fills  the  soul, 
After  the  war  and  tumult,  with  a  peace 
Not  as  the  world,  but  like  the  holy  calm 
Upon  the  hills  of  heaven,  so  still,  serene, 
Unruffled,  tranquil,  quiet,  undisturbed, 
A  bounteous  land,  an  ocean  of  repose. 
With  God  no  more  is  war,  no  more  with  man 
In  heartless  thrust  of  injury,  and  no  more 
With  self,  defeated  most  in  victory ; 
But  harnessed  now  in  holiness,  and  high 
The  heavenly  banner  waving,  one  with  God, 
And  one  with  human  good,  and  one  with  self, 


THE  HOLY  BUILDERS.  79 

The  battle  is  with  wrong  and  wretchedness, 
Whose  peace  is  war,  whose  overthrow  is  peace 
In  all  the  warring  nations.     Glorious  hour ! 
To  see  the  lightning  sheathed,  the  wrath  again 
To  smiles  benignant  turn,  and  all  the  heavens 
With  loving  aspect  bend  ;  and  feel  the  arm 
Almighty  with  us  moving,  shield  to  shield, 
On  to  victorious  peace  ;  and  know  within 
The  calm  of  God,  the  anxious  care  at  rest, 
The  sweet  content,  the  fiery  passion  quelled 
To  lay  its  armor  off,  the  soul  subdued 
To  turn  its  stormy  winter  to  the  sun, 
And  take  the  promise  in  its  blessedness : 
Not  always,  but  with  such  prevailing  grace, 
The  darkness  comes  forth  brighter,  every  strife 
In  richer  victory  of  peace,  till  all 
Is  full  of  quiet,  and  the  thunderous  air 
Stills  its  dire  muttering,  and  the  glorious  Lord 
Fulfills  his  Sabbath  in  the  soul  of  man. 

Next,  like  a  giant,  laying  stones  of  proof 
To  task  the  engines,  and  with  steady  step 
Carrying  the  massive  load,  strong  Patience  gives 
Strength  to  the  rising  temple,  and  supports 
With  everlasting  pillars.     Oh  !  to  bear, 
And,  as  we  bear,  to  look  on  Calvary, 


THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

And  see  wrong,  insult,  every  suffering  borne 

With  such  sublimity  of  patience,  all 

Our  troublous  trifles  are  as  summer  dust 

A  bird  may  fly  with  on  her  easy  plume, 

And  sing  to  heaven  !     Why  hapless  call  the  cup 

Brimming  with  sorrow  ?  why  perverse  and  sour 

The  savor  of  correction  ?  why  amiss 

The  fruitful  flow  of  tears  ?  why  rough  and  strange 

The  friction  of  a  hard  and  suffering  Jot, 

Like  diamond  dust,  the  waiting  crown  the  more 

Brightly  to  furbish  ?  why  tyrannical 

The  sovereign  rule  of  Love,  whose  wisdom  runs 

From  end  to  end,  and  every  thing  compels 

To  work  for  glory  and  a  grander  good  ? 

Nay,  with  thee,  rather,  Patience  of  the  Lord ! 
Into  the  coffin  calmly  can  I  look, 
And  see  death  rob  me ;  take  misfortune  home 
To  cheerful  entertainment ;  hopes  behold, 
Ripe  for  the  sickle,  by  one  fiery  swoop 
Garnered  in  ashes,  wealth  on  eager  wing 
Fly,  like  an  eagle,  from  my  golden  nest, 
To  build  in  other  haunts  ;  feel  in  my  flesh 
Disease  at  riot,  nerves  as  needles,  keen 
To  stitch  the  garment  sensitive,  and  clothe 
Life  with  a  double  death ;  hear  tongues  of  hate, 


THE   HOLY   BUILDERS.  8] 

With  cruel  venom  barbed,  my  innocence 

Wound  like  a  heartless  target ;  have  them  come, 

Hard,  pitiless  comforters,  and  to  my  heat 

Add  fuel,  or  my  shivering  bosom  numb 

With  frosty  consolation.     Yea,  all  this  ; 

And,  by  thy  Spirit,  O  thou  Crucified  ! 

Girt  to  the  task,  I  can  the  heaviest  cross, 

However  sorely  bent,  bear  patiently, 

And  glory  in  thy  steps.     And  if  I  faint, 

And  groans  displace  the  song,  and  murmuring 

Begin  its  dismal  whimper,  or  a  thought 

Still  dare  propound  its  fretful  argument, 

More  wise   than   Heaven,  then    in   my  weakness 

come, 

Eternal  Patience  !  show  me  Calvary, 
The  crown,  the  weight  of  glory,  show  thyself, 
And  with  the  gracious  vision  make  me  strong. 

Now,  from  the  very  Holiest,  Gentleness, 
Filling  the  temple  with  an  exquisite  air, 
In  velvet  sandals  comes :  smooths  the  rough  way, 
And  plants  no  thorns  ;  the  sensibility 
Even  of  a  worm  respects,  and  tenderly 
Touches  an  open  wound :  whose  matchless  art, 
Beyond  the  skill  of  courts,  or  mannered  schools, 
Or  cunning  etiquette,  inspired  of  love, 


82  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Comes  from  the  courtly  intercourse  of  Christ, 

The  incarnate  Gentleness,  who  from  the  throne 

Divine  politeness  brought,  showing  the  earth 

How  gentle  are  the  heavens.     With  this  I  can 

Bow  to  the  beggar,  and  not  see  his  rags ; 

Know,  and  not  notice,  keen  deformity  ; 

Slip,  and  not  thrust,  the  charity ;  the  soul 

Can  honor  in  a  tawny  skin,  the  man 

In  any  manliness  ;  the  very  slave 

A  monarch  treads  on  can  esteem  as  much 

As  the  great  monarch,  if  as  worthy,  — more, 

If  worthier ;  can  as  smiling  be  behind 

As  in  the  presence,  after  as  before 

Misfortune  stripped  the  man  ;  can  kindly  greet 

The  frowning  brow  of  bitter  enmity ; 

And  sooner  would  be  eyeless,  than  the  eye 

Sharpen  in  mockery ;  tongueless,  than  the  tongue 

Distil  in  venom  ;  handless,  than  the  hand 

Sell  to  the  use  of  wrong,  or  touch  a  wound 

It  cannot  touch  to  help.     Oh,  how  in  souls, 

Once  adamant,  and  rough  as  wintry  winds, 

The  womanly  is  mighty  in  the  man, 

And  woman  made  divine  in  gentleness, 

By  thy  soft  Spirit,  tender  Son  of  God ! 

But  bounteous  Goodness  will,  with  ampler  grace, 


THE   HOLY   BUILDERS.  83 

By  deeds  of  benefit  the  temple  build. 
Noble,  to  harm  not ;  nobler  still,  to  bless  ; 
More  like  the  Master,  whose  absorbing  life 
Was  benefaction.     So  the  gentle  heart 
Is  half  a  saint,  unless  with  busy  hand 
In  the  wide  field  of  fruitful  righteousness. 
Absence  of  mischief  must  be  reinforced 
By  active  love ;  as,  when  an  army  halts, 
Though  free  from  pillage,  it  is  not  its  best, 
Till  the  brave  banner  of  successful  arms 
Has  won  the  war.     The  goodly  positive 
Must  wed  the  harmless  negative  of  wrong, 
That  else,  in  solitude,  will  only  find 
A  barren  virtue.     Let  the  tender  foot, 
That  would  not  tread  a  worm,  provoke  a  pain, 
Nor  bruise  a  heart  that  may  an  angel  hold, 
Run  with  the  food  and  balm  ;  since  lack  of  harm 
Must  grow  to  blessing,  if  it  lack  with  Christ, 
Who,  not  to  judge,  came  to  redeem  the  world; 

Hold  then  the  blow,  but  pour  the  balsam  in ; 
Nor  plant,  but  pluck  the  thorny  evil  up ; 
Nor  wound,  but  heal,  and  dry  the  bitter  tear. 
Quench  not  the  smoking  flax,  but  blow  it  bright ; 
Nor  break  the  bruised  reed,  but  bind  it  strong. 
Scorn  not,  but  help  the  sable  face  to  rise 


84  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

To  honor  and  advantage  ;  and  the  low 

Dust  of  humanity  nor  trample,  but  perchance, 

Skilled  in  the  plastic  aptitude  of  love, 

Mould  to  a  nobler  manhood.     Haunts  of  vice 

Not  proudly  shim,  but  enter  with  the  light 

To  shine  the  darkness  down ;  whose  lustful  crew 

In  lordly  virtue  spurn  not,  but  assist 

Again  to  bathe  in  heaven's  pure  element. 

Nor  mock  the  drunken,  but  in  sorrow  cast 

A  mantle  on  the  shame,  the  fallen  raise, 

And  help  to  quell  the  monster  to  a  man. 

Nor  bow  politely  to  a  suffering  need, 

Passing  in  fellow  footsteps  of  the  thieves, 

But  neighborly,  with  nimble  love,  undo 

The  thievish  work,  with  charity  of  cost. 

So  let  the  living  Christ,  with  sceptered  power, 
In  majesty  still  moving  through  the  earth, 
Rule  in  the  temple,  and  enlarge  the  work 
In  likeness  of  his  measure.     Let  the  shrine 
Be  heaped  like  fruitful  Egypt,  and,  like  sweet 
Arabia  of  the  blessed,  send  afar, 
On  wings  of  incense  over  threatening  seas, 
A  savor  of  salvation  to  the  world. 
And  lift  aloft  the  massy  dome  of  light, 
In  clouds  though  buried  often,  shining  still 


THE  HOLY   BUILDERS.  85 

From  the  full  sources  of  eternal  day, 
And  brighter  than  St.  Peter's  candled  pomp, 
Than  all  the   meteors  of  philosophy, 
Than  all  the  splendor  earthly  science  sheds, 
To  curb  the  darkness,  hold  the  night  at  bay, 
Cheer  the  cold  globe  with  beams  of  benefit, 
Enlighten  new,  the  smothered  lands  relume, 
Till  all  is  glory,  and  the  glory  pour 
Back  to  its  fountain  in  the  throne  of  God. 

And  over  all  the  vigilant  Faithfulness 
Watches  with  weariless  fidelity, 
That  more  and  more  the  building  may  arise, 
With  stone  and  pillar,  arch  and  massive  tower, 
True  to  the  line  and  plummet.     He  who  weighed 
The  worlds  in  even  balance,  swung  them  off 
In  orbits  of  unvarying  ages,  each 
Exact  to  infinite  wisdom,  and  in  time 
Wrought  the  perfection  of  the  holy  law, 
In  faultless  virtue,  even  to  the  cross 
Endured  in  the  terrific  tax  of  death, 
He  faithfully  the  holy  house  of  grace 
Builds  to  the  heavenly  pattern,  stone  to  stone, 
Pillar  to  pillar,  arch  to  lofty  arch, 
With  nothing  fragile,  weak,  combustible, 
That  will  not  meet  the  fiery  test,  and  rear 


THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Its  stately  grandeur  on  the  farther  shore ; 

The  human  work,  in  its  impurity, 

Purging  of  dross,  till  only  gold  remain, 

And  priceless  precious  stones,  fit  to  contain 

The  Spirit  of  all  glory,  and  adorn 

The  rich  foundation  and  the  heavenly  throne. 

Soul !  as  thou  art  by  these  fair  faithful  hands 
Built  nobly,  with  this  punctual  finish  wrought, 
Ripe  is  thy  fruit,  thy  labor  duly  done, 
The  secret  sacred,  and  the  payment  sure. 
The  faultless  model  moulds  thee,  and  thy  way 
Celestial  duty  guards,  with  nothing  now 
Too  noble  for  thy  aim.     Thy  tongue  will  coin 
Only  the  solid  metal  of  the  truth, 
And  weigh  its  words  for  judgment.      Oaks  will 

bend, 

The  stable  seasons  alter,  planets  swerve, 
Sooner  than  thou  in  thine  integrity. 
By  use  thy  talents  shine  ;  by  giving  grow 
Thy  riches  ;  stainless  is  thy  stewardship. 
Thy  word  is  as  an  oath ;  thy  promise,  law; 
Thy  honor,  royalty.     Thy  unblanched  lips 
Rebuke  in  blessing,  nor  the  wounds  of  love 
In  cruel  kindness  spare.     Thy  trusty  care, 
Ready  to  die,  its  sleepless  watch  will  keep, 


THE   HOLY    BUILDERS.  87 

And  hold  the  richest  store  with  hand  as  clear 
As  the  soft  lake  at  evening  when  it  spreads 
Its  mirror  to  the  stars.     And  as  they  plume 
Angelic  pinions  by  the  crystal  sea 
For  a  far  flight  of  love,  so  thy  fair  life 
Will  show  the  beauty  and  accomplishments 
That  waft  celestial  wings.     Thy  work  will  shine 
With  nice  and  careful  finish  ;  interests, 
Not  thine,  as  thine  be  numbered,  and  the  lone 
Flock  of  the  dead  be  tended  as  thy  own. 
The  entrusted  banner  boldly  wilt  thou  wave 
In  the  fierce  front  of  battle  ;  wilt  not  shrink 
From  danger  in  the  hottest ;  wilt  invest 
Thy  life  in  victory,  and  the  fiery  shrine 
Ascend  in  glad  devotion,  as  a  throne. 
Thus,  with  this  spirit,  faithful  to  the  end, 
On  that  great  day  of  glory  wilt  thou  hear 
The  blessed  benediction  :  "  Faithful  thou 
In  few  things,  over  many  things  bear  rule ; 
Enter  the  joy  eternal  of  thy  Lord." 

Meekness  divine  !  come,  thou  despised  of  men. 
But  great  in  heaven,  thy  grandeur  vindicate, 
And  beautify  the  temple  with  thy  grace. 
No  other  hast  thou  touched,  and  rudely  forth 
Art  driven  by  every  other  deity. 


88  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

I  welcome  thee,  with  thy  soft  voice  of  power, 
The  haughty  spirit  of  my  pride  to  quell, 
Quench-the  hot  tongue,  the  lofty  eye  subdue, 
And  lead  me  meekly  in  the  steps  Divine. 
Oh  !  beautiful,  yet  mighty  art  thou,  more 
Than  all  the  testy  arms  and  enginery 
That  carry  forts  and  fields.     The  massy  dome 
Throws  up  its  golden  bosom  to  the  storm, 
And  meets  the  fiery  lances  of  the  clouds, 
The  hail's  artillery,  the  pelting  floods, 
The  airy  cavalry  of  blustering  winds, 
The  charging  elements,  the  thunderous  war, 
With  calm  and  steady  strength,  with  no  reply 
But  its  majestic  siJence.     So  the  soul, 
Built  in  thy  spirit,  lifted  to  thy  height, 
Above  the  wrath  and  revelry  of  wrong, 
Will  take  the  insolence  and  burning  rage, 
The  strokes  of  hate,  the  volleys  of  contempt, 
In  majesty  of  meekness.     Christ  within 
In  measure  as  of  old,  it  calmly  leaves 
Vengeance  with  God,  nor  vainly  tries  to  wield 
The  weapons  of  Jehovah  ;  tries  much  less 
The  slings  and  arrows  of  infernal  use, 
That  wound  the  user  most.     The  hellish  stream 
Back  hotter  runs  than  outward,  and  Revenge, 
Trying  to  work  a  Sinai,  will  be  crushed 


THE  HOLY  BUILDERS.  89 

Beneath  its  weight  of  wrath  ;  and  ever,  like 
Enceladus  under  ^Etna,  in  the  fierce 
Contortions  of  its  fury,  will  but  make   * 
The  mountain  vomit  more.     But,  like  a  peak, 
Above  the  stormy  climate  of  the  clouds, 
And  the  rough  onset  of  the  elements, 
Towering  in  majesty  to  the  quiet  stars, 
Thy  meek  one,  raised  in  thy  nobility, 
Whatever  storm  may  threaten,  leans  afar 
Upon  the  placid  bosom  of  the  sky, 
Serenely  resting  in  the  will  of  Heaven. 
Ah  !  in  her  highest  mood,  philosophy, 
Sweeping  the  ages  with  ambitious  wing, 
Reached  never  a  flight  so  grand,  but  sullenly 
Broods  in  the  valley  of  her  discontent, 
Or,  in  low  wonder,  from  her  ruins  dank, 
Hoots  at  this  star-winged  bird  of  paradise. 

Not  craven,  no ;  heroic,  noble,  high 
Above  the  manhood  of  the  bannered  ranks, 
To  answer  threats  with  silence,  blows  with  smiles, 
And  wrong  with  benediction.     Cowardly 
The  mad  quick  stroke  ;  craven  the  biting  speech ; 
Mean,  as  infernal,  pay  of  wrong  with  wrong. 
Desert  of  censure  answers  angrily, 
But  innocence  is  meek.     The  hasty  breath, 


9°  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Hot  with  a  rash  and  sulphurous  eloquence, 
Consumes  the  goodliest  arguments,  and  leaves 
The  smoking  embers  of  a  righteous  cause. 
What !  private  wrong  usurp  the  sword,  invoke 
The  fiery  fist  for  justice,  or  receive, 
As  plumed  vicegerent  of  the  infernal  King, 
A  rod  of  wrath,  commission  of  revenge, 
And  think  to  hold  it  with  the  palm  of  Christ  ? 

Better  a  crown  of  thorns  in  meekness,  than 
A  ten-fold  diadem  enriched  by  wrong ; 
A  heart  to  bear  another's  injury 
In  sweetness,  than  be  bitter  with  its  own  ; 
Gethsemane,  than  Caiaphas'  gorgeous  halls, 
Where  malice  in  the  fumes  of  envy  plots ; 
The  righteous  victim,  than  the  unrighteous  rod ; 
The  mockery,  than  the  mocking ;  the  rough  blow, 
Than  heart  to  give  it ;  wounds,  than  bloody  hands  ; 
The  cross,  than  crucifying  ;  hell  itself 
Unjustly,  than  unjustly  to  offend. 
To  suffer  meekly  is  the  heraldry 
Of  heaven  on  earth  ;  the  grandest  victory, 
To  yield  for  holy  peace,  —  the  conquered  self, 
Not  battlemented  cities ;  and  to  quell 
The  spirit  to  its  -law,  the  hardest  war. 
'Tis  easy  to  be  human  ;  godlike,  hard  : 


THE   HOLY   BUILDERS.  9 1 

Easy  to  bluster,  burn,  smite,  execrate, 

But  hard  to  keep  the  testy  passion  home, 

Sheathe  the  hot  sword,  and  wait  the  will  of  God. 

Hard  :  but  with  heavenly  help  I  may  do  all, 

Run  in  the  roughest  way  of  duty,  nor 

Find  yet  a  law  too  strict,  a  foe  too  strong. 

That  mighty  Hand,  that  holds  the  angelic  hosts 

And  starry  legions  of  celestial  wing, 

Can  wield  the  dreadful  thunder,  and  the  worlds 

It  has  created  with  a  blow  destroy, 

See  how  it  meekly  hides  itself,  and  takes 

Unanswered  all  the  challenges  of  hell, 

Its  hour  awaiting  !     Be  that  spirit  mine. 

Thus,  in  the  meek  resemblance  of  thy  Lord, 

The  matchless  triumph  of  submissive  love, 

Meet,  meet,  my  soul !  the  sharpest  thrusts  of  wrong, 

The  buffets  of  untemperecl  injury, 

Till,  vindicated  in  the  day  of  God, 

Thy  meekness,  in  the  light,  to  glory  turn. 

Now  Temperance,  mistress  of  prosperity, 
Fresh  as  the  morning,  fair  as  fortune's  smile, 
With  eyes  of  crystal,  ruddy  cheeks,  and  breath 
Like  incense,  health  like  jocund  spring, 
Vigor  like  summer  in  the  glowing  fields, 
Fruitful  as  autumn,  pure  as  winter's  robe, 


92  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Like  a  round  year  of  blessing,  soberly 

Builds  in  the  temple,  and,  with  stress  of  rule, 

Puts  passion  under  bonds.     The  holy  grace 

Is  not  indulgence,  but  control  of  self ; 

In  love's  dominion  makes  the  appetite, 

Not  prince,  but  subject ;  takes  the  genial  cup, 

The  curse  of  millions  in  its  wild  abuse, 

And  will  not  drink  a  weaker  brother's  blood, 

But  pours  it  a  libation  to  his  love, 

Sweeter  than  wine,  or  with  a  needful  use 

To  blessing  turns  the  curse  ;  at  the  full  board 

Sits  sovereign  of  the  palate,  eats  to  God, 

Not  to  the  bloated  Surfeit ;  and  abroad, 

In  every  lawful  pleasure,  only  goes 

Where  Christ  may  go,  and  heavenly  favor  bless 

The  modest  mirth,  making  the  recompense 

Of  self-denial  more  than  fleshly  joy, 

And  abstinence  the  banquet  of  the  soul. 

See  how  the  ravenous  serpent,  grim  Excess, 
Insatiate,  with  his  fearful  folds  would  crush 
The  strength  and  flower  of  manhood,  as  of  old 
Laocoon  and  his  sons,  whose  piteous  cries 
Rend  the  sad  heavens  !  the  Dragon  of  the  still, 
Whose  worm  outvenoms  all  the  snaky  broods  ; 
In  whose  fierce  fangs  a  hundred  furies  lurk, 


THE   HOLY   BUILDERS.  93 

Hissing  and  hot  and  deadly  venomous, 

Ready  to  sting  and  damn.      See  where  he  springs, 

With  yawning  hunger,  fell  ferocity, 

To  the  thin  doors  of  want  and  ignorance, 

To  gorge  his  easy  victims  !     See  !  he  glides, 

With  wily  fascination,  glozing  craft, 

Soft,  subtle  witchery,  to  the  gilded  lips 

Of  high  festivity,  and,  with  luscious  drops 

Of  dainty  taste  and  fashion,  starts  a  spring, 

Whose  trickling,  to  a  torrent  growing,  sweeps 

The  giddy  thousands,  like  the  bubbles,  on 

In  helpless  horror  to  the  fatal  sea, 

Where  all  is  lost  in  everlasting  wreck. 

And  Gluttony  is  fellow ;  not  so  foul, 
Revengeful,  brutal,  yet  a  lusty  fiend, 
Smirched  with  the  low  and  fleshly  appetite  ; 
With  pampered  cheek,  luxurious  air,  and  eye 
Of  wanton  glances  ;  slothful,  stolid,  stout ; 
Indulging  to  the  gross  ;  the  belly  god  ; 
Heaven  in  the  senses,  and  the  daily  life 
Worth  only  its  capacity  to  gorge, 
And  ape  the  anaconda  and  the  swine. 

A  hundred-fold  of  health  and  happiness, 
Strength,  fulness  and  nobility  of  life, 


94  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

More  in  the  meagre  measure,  than  in  much 

Without  restraint .     Surfeit  is  wicked  loss, 

Like  treasure  cast  to  the  devouring  deep  ; 

A  ravening  maw,  when  it  should  freely  give 

Its  fertile  favors  to  the  thirsty  shore. 

Plenty  is  not  to  drown  in,  nor  to  float 

The  bark  of  wild  adventure,  but  to  yield 

Bounty  to  suffering  need,  and  largely  spread 

The  copious  wings  of  blessing.     Greedy  fool ! 

To  turn  the  carcass  into  deity ; 

Batten  the  speedy  banquet  of  the  worm  ; 

The  passions  glut;  pamper  the  gnawing  sense, 

Till  appetite  is  master,  and  an  hour 

Of  rank  indulgence  shall  the  years  outweigh 

Of  temperate  festival,  the  mortal  pool 

Of  fleshly  pleasure,  full  of  lurking  storm, 

Outspan  the  ocean  of  celestial  joys  ! 

Oh !  doth  for  this  the  lavish  season  come 

Laden  with  bounty  of  the  fruitful  year ; 

For  this,  the  base  perversion  of  the  good, 

Thy  cup  to  curse,  with  festering  sorrows  fill 

Thy  little  day,  and  the  sweet  household  shrine 

Turn  to  the  altar  of  a  beastly  god  ? 

Thrice  blest  the  sturdy  abstinence,  that  holds 
The  restless  passions  to  a  sober  rule ! 


THE   HOLY   BUILDERS.  95 

And  blest  the  temperate  home,  with  happiness 
And  rich  content !  the  social  table  blest, 
Where  Christ  is  host,  and  thankful  appetite 
Partakes  in  hunger's  frugal  luxury, 
For  service,  not  indulgence  !     There  the  flush 
Of  health's  aurora,  which  the  artist  veins 
Paint  like  the  morning;  there  the  cheery  smile, 
Throwing  its  radiance  on  the  darkest  day, 
And,  like  a  lily,  filling  all  its  sphere 
With  fragrance  of  contentment.     Sturdy  limbs, 
From  slumberous  night  awaking  well-refreshed, 
Spring  to  their  labor;  and  the  evening  hour 
Rests  in  the  blessed  weariness  of  work, 
Rejoicing  in  the  harvest.     Purely  flows 
The  vital  tide  of  vigor,  ruddy  stream 
To  run  the  wheels  of  life ;  while  fairy  nerves 
Serve  not  to  weave  the  flesh  in  fretful  snarls, 
But  dance  and  dare,  cool  in  their  fervency, 
And  marry  winter  to  the  summer  heat. 
There  the  sweet  fellowship,  the  solemn  joy 
Of  high  communion,  dainties  of  the  soul ; 
The  thankful  heart,  itself  a  festival ; 
The  tendance  of  angelic  servitors, 
And  ceaseless  ministry  of  the  host  Divine. 

Ho  !  the  broad  earth  is  table,  where  the  world 


96  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

May  gather  in  the  full  festivity. 

Far  spread  the  fields  of  plenty,  rich  in  fruit 

And  lavish  goodness  of  celestial  care ; 

Enough  for  all,  if  only  love  will  serve  : 

A  paradise  despite  the  wilderness ; 

Roses  in  thorns,  and  honey  from  the  rock, 

And  bounty  from  the  sea.     Lo  !  God  is  here. 

And  with  him,  hand  in  hand,  I  may  possess 

And  use  it  all,  not  misuse,  as  an  heir 

In  the  vast  mansion ;  freely  take  the  joy, 

The  comfort,  the  advantage,  and  again, 

With  holy  temper  of  a  grateful  heart, 

In  sweet  enjoyment,  sweeter  charity, 

However  poor,  however  rich,  the  same, 

Lay  it  in  loving  tribute  at  his  feet, 

And  live  the  meaning  of  the  gifts  of  God. 

Now  must  heroic  Courage  well  defend 
The  rising  temple  in  a  hostile  air, 
And  keep  the  martial  spirit  well  aflame 
Against  the  enemies,  whose  fierce  enginery, 
Devised  of  hell,  of  insolence  compact, 
Wrought  of  the  adverse  forces  of  the  wrong, 
Are  set  to  batter  at  the  heavenly  towers. 
It  takes  the  stuff  of  martyrs,  many  a  stone 
Laid  in  the  costly  cement  of  their  blood, 


THE   HOLY   BUILDERS.  97 

A  fine  and  fearless  bravery,  to  erect 

From  direful  ruin  the  new  Jerusalem, 

With  one  hand  building,  one  hand  on  the  sword. 

Then  gird  thee,  soul  in  peril !  to  the  strife 
With  every  foe,  that  in  triumphant  rage 
Would  o'er  thee  flaunt  his  hateful  blazonry. 
Burnish  the  trusty  arms  ;  anoint  the  shield  ; 
Dare,  dare  in  meek  defiance.     Fling  the  bright 
Flag  of  the  heavens  afar,  unfurled  and  free, 
Whatever  fury  threaten.     Sleepless  watch 
Against  the  subtle  lurking  error  keep ; 
Nor  yield  an  atom,  when  an  atom,  grown, 
May  prove  a  world  of  evil.     Daily  wage 
War  with  the  tempting  Tyrant,  who  would  fain 
Thy  hope,  thy  honor,  and  thy  manhood  crush 
Under  the  pressure  and  avenging  weight 
Of  passion  and  remorse.     The  appetite 
Bridle  to  reason ;  curb  the  rank  desire  ; 
The  free  imagination  sternly  make 
Handmaid  of  virtue,  not  a  pander  vile 
To  wanton  dalliance,  even  in  thy  dreams; 
And  slay  the  thought,  that  would  the  gates  unbar 
To  take  a  traitor  to  the  citadel. 
Thyself  subdue,  even  by  the  sturdy  dint 
Of  crucifixion,  whose  courageous  art 


98  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Is  more  than  facing  cannon.     Let  the  knife 
Cut  bravely,  and  its  keen  design  direct 
Against  the  part  that  vilifies  the  whole. 
Prune  with  the  vigorous  and  enriching  loss. 
That  gains  by  losing,  till  luxuriant  life 
From  every  rank  indulgence  is  redeemed 
To  fruitfulness  of  good.     Nor  let  the  sword, 
Tired  in  its  blood,  to  rusty  rest  return, 
Till,  helped  of  Heaven,  the  patient  struggle  wears, 
In  burning  light,  the  everlasting  crown  ; 
Till  high  and  fair  the  perfect  temple  stands, 
With  every  window,  pillar,  pinnacle 
Hung  with  the  trophies  of  victorious  grace, 
And  flaming  banners,  written  with  the  names 
Of  glorious  fields  and  many  a  vanquished  foe, 
And  Christ  the  glory  of  the  victory. 

Now  cheerful  Hope,  the  common  servitor, 
Among  the  builders  passing  to  and  fro, 
Where  one  is  weary,  overburdened,  sad, 
Ready  to  faint  in  the  oppressive  day, 
Like  a  physician  from  the  starry  court 
Comes,  with  the  quickening  cordial  to  revive, 
And  give  new  glow  of  zeal  and  enterprise 
To  finish  to  the  pattern ;  or  aloud, 
With  sound  of  trumpet  to  the  drowsy  ear, 


THE   HOLY   BUILDERS.  99 

Thrilling  the  temple  with  her  herald  peal, 
Inspirits  the  toilers,  fires  despondency, 
And  cheers  the  swaying  conflict.     He  who  helps 
The  builder,  also  builds  ;  to  win,  is  crowned. 
Nor  will  a  stone  be  added,  nor  an  arch 
Lift  its  fair  burden,  nor  a  window  gleam, 
Without  her  kindling  presence,  and  her  spoils, 
Out  of  the  fields  of  future  blessing,  laid 
In  rich  abundance  at  the  palace  gates. 

Hail   then,   fair   Hope  !       Without   thee,   what 

the  cross, 

The  weary  watchfulness,  the  long  delay, 
The  busy  care,  the  tiresome  tide  of  things, 
The  earth  itself,  but  cruel  mockery, 
And  death  the  usher  to  an  endless  doom  ? 
But  thou  dost  gild  the  night ;  refresh  the  couch 
Of  anguish ;  in  the  dismal  dungeon  sing ; 
Sharpen  the  spurs  of  action ;  tears  transmute 
To  jewels  of  rejoicing ;  soothe  the  flame 
In  the  hot  furnace  ;  from  the  barren  branch 
Pluck  clusters  ;  quell  the  turbulence  of  fear ; 
Enfold  the  future  in  a  fairer  form  ; 
Deliver  from  the  burning  gates,  that  bar 
For  ever  from  thy  sweet  society, 
And  crown  the  glory  with  eternal  gain. 


100  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Shine  then  in  heaven,  the  beaming  star,  to  guide 

The  toiler  to  the  richer  prize  beyond 

The  tug  of  battle,  or  of  grim  defeat ; 

Interpret  well  the  promises  that  stand, 

Like  angels  on  the  heavenly  battlements, 

To  beckon  upward  to  celestial  good ; 

And  to  the  heavy  heart,  in  every  need, 

Discomfiture,  distress,  anticipate 

The  waiting  guerdon  of  the  bliss  of  God. 

In  lowly  form  of  might,  Humility, 
Devoutly  bending  to  her  task,  must  now 
Confirm  the  noble  work.     Pride  first  o'erthrew ; 
And  only  as  this  puffed,  imperious  power 
From  access  to  the  ruins  is  debarred, 
Can  the  new  walls  arise.     He  highest  builds, 
Who  deepest  builds.     The  giddy  turret  lifts 
Its  safety  to  the  petulance  of  storms 
Only  from  rooted  rock.     In  lowliness 
The  temple  must  be  daily  edified  ; 
Daily  defiled,  be  daily  purged  anew; 
Weakened,  be  daily  built  of  firmer  stone, 
In  deep  repentance  laid.     And  higher  still 
It  rises,  by  the  lowly  labor  wrought 
Deeper  and  deeper  in  the  hidden  rock, 
Till  crowned  above  the  sky.     The  character 


THE   HOLY   BUILDERS.  IOI 

Of  largest  flow,  and  richest  wealth  of  fruit, 
From  the  deep  fountain  and  low  valley  grows 
Of  self-forgetfulness.     And  as  the  oak, 
On  rugged  hills,  from  nether  sources  nursed, 
Shakes  its  broad  banner  at  the  tempest,  strong 
By  depth  of  root  among  the  ribs  of  earth, 
And  the  great  mountain  heart,  upon  its  branch, 
Bears  bravely  to  the  skies ;  so,  firmly  set 
On  Zion,  from  Siloa's  waters  fed, 
The  humble  root  grows  up  in  majesty. 
And  as  the  ruddy  hours  of  morning  come 
'From  the  deep  bath  of  midnight,  wet  with  dews, 
To  run  their  race  of  glory  to  the  noon, 
Filling  the  land  with  light ;  so  nightly  go 
Down  to  the  valley,  where  the  contrite  tear 
Bedews  the  lowly  step,  and  bath  of  God 
Cleanses  anew  in  mercy  ;  and  arise 
More  sunlike  on  the  morrow,  higher  still 
Ascending  daily  in  the  heavenly  way, 
Up  to  the  splendors  of  eternal  noon. 

Oh,  how  it  stops  the  boasting  breath,  to  know 
That  every  holy  thought,  imagining, 
Purpose,  amendment,  victory,  is  the  fruit 
Of  that  triumphant  grace,  which  works  within 
The  pleasure  of  His  will !     Humbling  to  me, 


102  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

As  grandly  glorious  to  his  bending  throne, 

Thus  to  my  ministry  to  stoop,  and  give 

The  holy  heart,  and  keep  it,  where  heaven  else 

Would  neither  come,  nor  stay.     And  when  I  look 

On  that  bright  Character  of  perfectness, 

That  blazed  awhile  on  earth,  and  to  the  cross 

Brought   down  the   love    Divine,    and   more    and 

more, 

In  growing  radiance,  past  the  dark  eclipse, 
Enlightens  all  the  lands  ;  and  when  I  think 
How  oft  my  life  I've  promised  to  conform, 
And  virtue  fashion,  to  the  heavenly  type, 
And  failed,  still  loitering  in  the  shining  race 
Far  as  the  twilight  from  the  summer  noon ; 
And  when  I  feel  the  venom  in  my  soul 
Still  working  fiercely,  and  the  hated  sin 
Yet  plucking  victories,  and  the  holy  flag 
Grimed  with  my  treachery,  and  the  heavenly  wheels 
Blocked  with  my  stone,  my  noble  purposes 
So  often  quenched  in  sloth  and  cowardice,  < 
And  the  dear  Lord  dishonored  in  his  due, 
Dishonored  in  the  dole  of  offering, 
The  quality  of  service,  meed  of  praise, 
So  rudely  treated,  and  his  easy  yoke 
Thought  hard,  his  burden  heavy,  and  his  cross 


THE   HOLY   BUILDERS.  I°3 

Carried  so  often  with  so  halt  a  step, 

His  name  so  poorly  borne,  so  feebly  lived, 

The  world  so  strangely  loved,  —how  this  will  bow 

The  soul  in  ashes,  bring    the  fevered  heart 

Within  the  cool  and  shadow  of  the  Rock, 

Under  the  wing  of  mercy,  glad  to  sit 

Upon  the  footstool,  where  the  face  of  God 

Beams  in  full  favor,  and  his  goodness  girds 

The  humble  weakness,  and  the  very  dust 

Is  dust  of  heaven!  higher  and  nobler  thus 

Than  proudly  in  a  monarch's  seat  to  reign. 

Yes,  royally  redeemed !  thy  royal  sign, 
Brightest  above  the  deepest  sacrifice, 
Shines  in  celestial  waiting.     Nay,  the  crown 
Is  thine  already  on  the  lowliest  brow, 
As  in  the  cradle  future  monarchs  sleep, 
And  kingly  lustre  shows  the  coming  king  ; 
Thine,  princely  child  of  Jesus  !  seen  of  men, 
Or  angels,  budding  even  now,  but  soon 
To  burst  in  blooming  glory,  brighter  yet 
By  thy  deep  training,  starred  with  lustrous  fires, 
In  the  full  bplendor  of  a  heavenly  throne. 
Where,  not  in  pride,  which  evermore  must  die, 
But  humble  still,  even  in  the  seat  of  Christ, 


104  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

And  mindful  of  the  distance  of  thy  due, 
Exalted  from  what  baseness  to  what  height, 
Since  might  angelic  must  its  measure  take 
Still  from  the  infinite  Glory,  and  survive 
By  power  Almighty,  shining  ever  on 
With  light  and  beauty  from  the  spring  Divine, 
Thy  royal  visage  with  the  angels  veil, 
And  cast  the  glittering  jewels  of  thy  crown 
Before  the  boundless  blaze  of  Deity. 

O  Vision  of  the  invisible,  far-eyed  Faith ! 
Thy  praises  last,  not  praises  least  I  bring ; 
Whose  hand  conspicuous  in  the  work  appears, 
Or  not  a  turret,  not  a  pillar  stands. 
Thou,  from  the  realm  celestial,  dost  present 
The  perfect  pattern,  to  the  heavenly  height 
From  earth  erecting,  building  more  and  more 
Into  the  likeness  of  the  Temple  there. 
Thou  layest  the  deep  foundations,  making  bare 
The  eternal  Rock  for  the  safe  edifice, 
And  from  the  quarry  rich  material 
To  all  the  builders  amply  dost  provide  ; 
Dost  things  unseen  see,  hear  things  yet  unheard ; 
Unravel  mystery,  darkness  turn  to  light, 
Interpret  like  a  prophet,  more  declare 
Than  soaring  reason  in  her  utmost  reach' 


THE   HOLY    BUILDERS.  105 

Beyond  the  trodden  pathway  boldly  go 
Upon  the  sheer  authority  of  Heaven, 
And  from  the  gloomy  sorrows  richly  bring 
Trophies  of  benediction.     Thou  dost  still 
The  rugged  footing  smooth    for  weary  feet, 
Dry  the  corroding  tear,  the  heavy  cross 
Garnish  with  garlands,  stay  the  trembling  heart, 
Quench  the  hot  passions,  quell  the  rage  of  wrong, 
The  mouth  of  lions  stop,  the  mouth  of  hell, 
And  on  a  mighty  shoulder,  with  the  strength 
Of  God  correcting  weakness,  bear  amain 
The  mountain  and  the  pressure  of  the  world. 

Now,  with  thee  on  the  visual  summit  high 
Standing,  I  stretch  thy  telescope  of  view, 
To  sweep  the  dizzy  circle,  and  behold, 
As  on  the  field  of  presence,  eye  to  eye, 
In  one  horizon  of  their  history, 
The  buried  ages,  an$  the  years  to  come. 
I  see  the  God,  in  lustrous  majesty, 
Without  beginning,  planning  to  unfold, 
Within  the  inclosure  of  the  narrow  time, 
The  great  design  and  pleasure  of  his  love  ; 
Spring  of  an  ocean,  evermore  to  pour 
In  fathomless  currents  of  immortal  good. 
I  see  the  teeming  worlds,  at  his  command, 


106  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

In  shining  order,  from  the  fiery  womb, 
Roll  forth  in  blazing  rivalry  of  light, 
His  glory  to  declare  in  ceaseless  chime 
Of  power  and  wisdom  and  beneficence. 
I  see  his  image,  in  this  earthly  sphere, 
The  dear  experiment  of  humanity, 
Begun  in  beauty,  blasted  in  its  shame, 
Till  in  a  brighter  excellence  issuing 
And  fashion  of  his  glory.     Far  and  wide, 
The  raging  surge  of  misery  I  see, 
With  whirling  tempests,  deluging  the  lands ; 
And,  high  above,  the  Ark  of  Rescue,  strong 
With  promise,  and  prevailing  sacrifice, 
And  shining  symbol  of  the  gracious  God, 
And  miracle  of  help,  direction,  law, 
Till,  in  the  happy  voyage,  safe  from  fear, 
With  myriad  myriads  laden,  on  the  shore 
Eternal  moored  in  glory.     More  than  all, 
The  vacant  throne  I  see ;  the  lowly  flesh 
Filled  with  the  mystery  of  the  power  Divine, 
The  earth  to  roll  back  to  its  holy  orb  ; 
The  stress  of  toil,  the  press  of  poverty, 
The  daily  wonder  of  the  word  and  deed, 
The  tireless  love,  the  pain,  the  bitter  death, 
The  vanquished  grave,  the  flight  majestical 
Back  to  his  everlasting  empery, 


THE   HOLY   BUILDERS.  107 

The  present  Ruler,  and  the  future  Judge. 
I  see  Him  busy  through  the  cycles  since, 
Reaping  the  fruit,  blessing  the  faithful  toil, 
Arming  the  truth,  directing  providence, 
Swaying  the  world  and  fury  of  the  foe 
To  his  serene  advantage,  till  the  whole 
Earth  is  his  holy  kingdom,  everywhere 
His  throne  erected  in  adoring  hearts. 
I  see  the  heavenly  mansions,  starry  seats 
Of  glory,  radiant  with  the  glow  of  God, 
Unutterable  splendor  ;  happy  hosts 
In  bright  immortal  squadrons,  safe  from  sin, 
Peril  of  sorrow,  doom  of  infamy, 
Exulting  in  the  enrapturing  offices 
Of  worship,  service,  and  melodious  praise  ; 
And,  in  the  midst  exalted,  in  the  height 
And  full  imperial  honor  of  his  due, 
The  Lamb  of  God  ;  seraphic  multitudes, 
From  every  wind,  in  adoration  bowed, 
Encompassed  with  the  shining  Majesty, 
As  blessed  islands  by  the  boundless  deep. 
While  thus,  in  glad  scenes  inexpressible, 
From  bliss  to  bliss,  the  amazing  ages  roll. 


BOOK  V. 
THE  SACRED  IMPLEMENTS. 

Empty  hands  build  in  vain.  The  heavenly  equipment.  Prayer,  its  need 
and  power.  Wise  reason.  Truth  ;  of  man,  nature,  God.  The  Bible,  above 
all  other  books  ;  divine,  above  all  other  knowledge.  Polished  weapons  from 
the  heavenly  armory.  Sinai's  cloud  and  thunder ;  Zion's  sunshine.  The 
Cross,  the  sovereign  argument  and  plea.  Effective  truth  heated  in  the 
heart.  Secret,  unselfish  charity,  a  holy  art.  Influence  of  character.  Noble 
living  better  than  fluent  speech.  The  light  of  the  world.  Zealous  activity. 

Thus,  to  the  heavenly  pattern,  heavenly  hands 
Form  the  fair  building,  and  the  human  skill, 
Under  the  wise  direction  of  the  sky, 
Works  with  the  Almighty.     Thus  the  living  walls 
Rise  everywhere  in  beauty,  till  the  world, 
In  all  its  nations,  every  soul  inwrought, 
Stand  one  vast  temple  to  the  praise  of  God. 

But  empty  hands  build  not ;  the  strongest  need 
Still  to  be  filled  with  arms  and  enginery. 
The  implements  of  service,  few  and  grand, 

Must  be  attained,  and  with  celestial  art 
108 


THE   SACRED    IMPLEMENTS.  ICQ 

Used  in  this  purpose  of  magnificence. 
And,  seeking  wisdom  in  the  silent  hour, 
Out  of  the  holy  Oracles  I  hear 
This  clear  direction  to  the  willing  soul. 

Without  the  aid  Almighty,  all  is  vain ; 
To  use  the  heavenly  throne  thy  privilege. 
Then  let  petition,  winged  with  strong  desire, 
Fly  to  the  Place  of  Glory,  and  return 
Armed  with  Omnipotence.  Thy  weakness  still 
Gird  with  his  might,  who  loves  with  men  to  dwell, 
Work  in  their  labor,  help  their  helplessness. 
Pray  the  eternal  will ;  and  he  response 
WTill  give,  that  never  may  thy  hand  amiss 
Toil  for  the  right,  nor  fail  of  recompense 
In  life's  ennobling  duties.     He  may  use 
Thee  as  a  pinion  of  his  vast  designs, 
A  link  or  pivot  of  his  providence, 
Weapon  of  victory,  implement  of  peace. 
Thy  prayerless  toil  is  idleness  ;  thy  hand, 
Without  its  blood,  will  nerveless  drop  the  sword. 
One  hour  with  Christ  is  more  than  studious  years 
With  all  the  sages  ;  one  celestial  breath, 
Invigorating  more  than  earthly  gales ; 
One  word  of  Heaven,  more  answer  to  the  heart 
Than  flattering  millions ;  and  one  gracious  smile, 


HO  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

More  sunlike  than  the  favor  of  the  world. 

With  faith  unfaltering,  stronger  than  a  troop 

In  burnished  armor,  wrestle  with  the  Lord 

In  solitary  walls,  whose  hidden  tongue 

Will  sometime  tell  their  secrets  to  the  day, 

And  wear  an  open  glory.     Humbly  there 

Thy  burden  on  his  ready  succor  cast, 

Press  every  sorrow  to  his  gracious  ear, 

And  to  thy  life  most  intimately  take 

The  holy  impress  of  his  fellowship. 

Thy  heart  be  with  his  love  melodious, 

Thy  dome  of  thought  a  palace  to  his  praise; 

Each  tender  glance,  each  tear,  each  weary  sigh, 

A  fervent  aspiration.     He  will  hear, 

Though,  for  a  time,  seem  shut  to  thy  request 

A  gate  of  triple  brass.     Yea,  he  will  hear, 

Above  the  heavenly  music  and  the  far 

Resounding  business  of  the  universe, 

The  crude  desire,  the  lisp  of  loyalty, 

The  sob,  the  moan,  the  inarticulate  wish, 

And,  bounteous  more  than  thought,  richer  than  hope, 

Will  to  his  glory  answer.     He  will  give 

From  nights  of  wrestling  the  victorious  day, 

And  fill  thy  banner  with  a  thousand  fields, 

Red  with  thyself  and  conquest  of  the  world. 

So,  with  surpassing  vigor,  linked  with  God, 


THE   SACRED    IMPLEMENTS.  Ill 

Thy  prayer  divinely  in  the  work  will  serve, 
Nor  lose  itself  till  lost  in  endless  light. 

O 

In  understanding  must  the  pillars  rest, 
The  living  walls  in  wisdom,  as  of  old 
Successful  worlds  roll  in  intelligence. 
In  ample  thought  there  is  an  ampler  mood 
Of  work  and  worship,  as  the  tutored  eye, 
With  telescopic  range,  gives  vaster  skies, 
Redoubling  suns.     The  grand  cathedral  shows, 
In  every  window,  stately  arch  and  tower, 
The  audacity  of  thinking  ;  as  the  heavens, 
The  fearless  plan  of  God.     Let  Reason,  thus 
Bold  with  her  signet  of  celestial  birth, 
Marshal  the  scattered  and  disordered  powers 
In  orderly  array,  in  sovereign  post 
Commanding,  in  the  dome  above  the  aisles, 
To  form  the  soul  in  steady  regimen. 
Not  as  a  brute,  by  fettered  instinct  led, 
Ply  the  blind  notion,  but  in  richer  rule, 
Free  as  a  god,  set  rational  force  at  task, 
To  shape  the  lips,  direct  the  teeming  thought, 
Restrain  the  wanton,  brace  the  faltering  will, 
Guide  the  swift  pinions  of  aspiring  hope, 
Quarry  the  deep  instruction,  mould  the  life 
To  the  high  art  and  form  of  righteousness, 


ri2  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

And  prove  the  work  and  pattern  all  divine. 

And  ever,  for  the  holy  building,  seek 
The  finest  substance  and  material, 
In  mines  of  earth,  or  heavenly  monuments. 
With  muniment  of  facts  well  fortify, 
And  brace  the  walls  with  knowledge.    Read  thyself, 
And,  in  that  book,  the  record  of  the  race ; 
Whose  various  visage  in  thy  mirror  see 
Reflected,  as  in  water  face  to  face. 
Search  fearlessly,  and  what  discovery  finds 
Dare  to  confess  and  honor.     Sweeping  back 
On  the  broad  field  of  human  history, 
Come  with  the  ages  laden.     Through  the  heavens 
Peer  with  imperial  vision,  till  the  watch 
Tire  with  the  weight  of  worlds.    Mysterious  realms 
Explore  with  humble  wonder ;  make  the  rocks 
Reveal  the  secrets  of  the  hoary  years. 
Question  the  flower,  the  forest,  mountain,  sea, 
Till  every  natural  tongue  is  eloquent 
In  its  Creator's  praise.    The  marvelous 
Fingering  of  Omnipotence  observe 
In  all  the  deft  accomplishment  around ; 
And  everywhere,  enraptured,  see  the  hand, 
And  hear  the  universal  voice,  of  God  : 
Whose  purpose  is  the  incessant  code  of  things ; 


THE   SACRED   IMPLEMENTS.  113 

His  thought,  creation  in  its  infinite  form ; 

His  fiat,  worlds ;  his  sovereign  presence,  law ; 

His  favor,  being  ;  his  activity, 

The  wondrous  motions  of  the  elements ; 

His  breath,  the  whirlwind ;  his  triumphal  car, 

The  wheeling  glories  of  the  universe. 

The  natural  volume  in  such  splendor  spread, 
But  more  the  written  Volume  of  his  will, 
And  letters  of  his  everlasting  love, 
Search  with  devotion,  till  the  sacred  mine 
Enrich  thee  with  its  treasures.     As  the  heavens, 
So  marvelously  more  the  heavenly  Word 
Expresses,  magnifies,  illustrates  Him, 
Whose  way  of  might  and  careful  providence 
Has  run  along  the  ages,  nor  will  cease, 
In  bounty,  judgment,  grace,  till  Eden  fair 
Arise  again,  under  a  brighter  sky, 
With  a  diviner  beauty.     God  himself, 
The  fount  of  truth,  the  knowledge  absolute, 
Above  the  wonders  of  his  works  peruse  : 
God,  in  his  ministry  and  gracious  ward, 
His  goodness,  mercy,  judgment,  gentle  rod, 
And  everlasting  rule  of  righteousness  : 
His  thought,  the  vast  eternity  in  one ; 
His  heart,  unfathomed  love ;  his  character, 


114  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Essential  glory  ;  his  high  government, 
Of  peerless  good  the  mould  and  majesty, 
And  of  himself  imparting,  till  his  like 
Glow  in  the  splendor  of  immortal  lives ; 
His  Word,  an  ocean  inexhaustible ; 
His  Christ,  the  sum  of  wisdom.     Mine  thy  fill, 
Nor  fear  to  spend  the  golden  continent. 
Here  is  emphatic  field  ;  here  certainty 
Beyond  crude  guessing  from  a  little  dust 
Swept  from  the  mysteries ;  here  the  truth  direct, 
With  ample  witness,  from  the  throne  of  light. 
No  learning  weighs  like  this  ;  intelligence, 
Here  quickened,  on  seraphic  wings  will  fly 
Above  the  schools,  and  answer  through  the  years 
Eternal,  when  the  heavens  have  passed  away, 
And  earthly  wisdom  with  the  earthly  time. 

Now  take  the  goodly  arms ;  the  bravest  will, 
Without  the  strong,  celestial  panoply, 
Miss  the  bright  crown.     This  warfare  is  no  jest 
Of  battle  mimicry,  no  fancy  fray, 
No  holiday  of  banners.     Ready  stand, 
In  full  equipment  harnessed,  to  engage 
The  desperate  spirits  that  would  overthrow 
The  temple  in  its  building,  and  defeat 
The  gracious  work.     Furbish  thy  weapon  well, 


THE   SACRED   IMPLEMENTS.  1 15 

And  holy  keenness  kindle  in  the  blade ; 
Not  waste  with  rust,  distempered  by  disuse. 
As  one  whose  sweaty  brow  would  win  the  bays, 
Work  in  the  sacred  armory.     Shafts  of  proof 
Forge  of  celestial  metal,  which  may  pierce 
The  scales  of  pride,  the  stubborn  hide  of  wrong, 
The  iron  mail  of  infidelity. 

With  blows  of  blessing  cleave  the  worldly  chain, 
The  links  of  passion,  error's  deadly  bands, 
Satan's  grim  fetters,  and  the  gossamer 
Of  futile  hopes,  which,  strong  as  welded  steel, 
Bind  the  duped  heart;  and  set  the  captive  free 
For  the  bright  race  of  glory.     Full  against 
Hell's  frowning  bulwarks,  Heaven's  artillery 
Turn  with  the  steady  blaze  of  righteousness, 
Nor  quench  the  burning  Mountain.     God  it  was, 
Who  armed  the  terror  of  that  awful  hour, 
Blew  the  loud  trumpet,  spake  the  fiery  law, 
And  shook  the  trembling  earth.     Not  a  stone  Jess 
Is  needed  now  in  that  dread  eminence, 
Whence  threatening  mandate   thunders.     God  to 
day, 

No  less,  is  fire  consuming.     Let  the  Abyss 
Still  flame,  the  dreadful  fact  no  less,  to-day, 
Than  when  first  kindled  for  the  rebel  host, 
And  set  in  glow  for  judgment ;  that  quick  steps, 


THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT. 

Aroused,  may  to  the  ready  refuge  flee, 

Where  mercy  welcomes  guilt.     For  not  a  word, 

However  sharp  and  hot,  but  tender  love 

May  with  a  melting  pity  gently  use, 

As  the  cloud  lightens  while  in  showers  it  weeps. 

From  Sinai,  but  from  Calvary  yet  more 
Draw  the  bright  weapons  of  thy  victory  ; 
Since,  far  above  the  blaze  of  judgment,  burns 
Redeeming  love  in  Jesus  crucified : 
The  perfect  plea,  the  sovereign  argument, 
The  sheath  of  penalty,  the  law  disarmed, 
The  flame  to  melt,  the  rainbow  on  the  storm, 
The  battle-song,  the  banner's  heraldry, 
The  sun  for  harvest,  and  the  star  to  guide, 
The  sanctuary  and  the  rest  of  woe, 
The  unfathomed  depth  of  God.     Oh  !  never  spare 
To  hold  the  glory  to  the  human  heart, 
Till  human  hearts  all  to  the  glory  turn ; 
Till  in  the  crimson  wave  the  wounded  bathe 
To  health  immortal,  wash  their  filthy  rags 
To  raiment  white  as  snow ;  till  Christ  alone 
To  all  the  weary,  hungry,  suffering,  sad, 
Is  comfort  and  repose  ;  till  earth,  through  all 
Her  bounteous  isles,  her  teeming  continents, 
Yield  universal  homage  to  his  hand, 


THE  SACRED    IMPLEMENTS.  1 

And  time,  with  all  her  voices  of  delight, 
Attune  to  heaven  her  happy  minstrelsy. 

Without  the  sun  the  icy  empire  reigns, 
And  the  cold  truth  is  stark  and  weaponless ; 
Hardness  more  hardens,  and  the  dead  more  die. 
Then,  into  piercing  bolts  thy  knowledge  forge, 
Hot  in  the  fires  of  feeling.     Let  the  word 
Out  of  a  glowing  bosom  swiftly  fly, 
Winged  with  the  holy  fervor,  and  afar 
Enkindle  where  it  strikes.     The  lofty  thought, 
Cold  as  an  Alp  in  mental  solitude, 
Warm  in  the  sunny  breast.     The  heart  anoint 
Professor  cardinal  of  the  sacred  lore, 
To  teach  the  largest  learning,  and  unfold, 
Better  than  heartless  sages,  than  the  keen 
Convulsions  cf  parturient  intellect, 
The  spirit  in  the  letter.     In  full  glow 
Of  labor  press  the  living  enginery, 
To  weave  the  busy  hours,  and  fabricate 
Immortal  patterns  in  the  style  of  heaven. 
Nor  be  content,  in  sweltering  indolence, 
To  cultivate  the  desert,  without  rain 
In  copious  issue  from  the  tender  springs ; 
Nor  trust  the  hope  of  harvest  to  the  night 
And  nether  heats  of  selfish  husbandry. 


Il8  THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT 

Draw  from  a  higher  sun ;  not  satisfied, 

In  frigid  dignity,  thy  fervid  course 

To  bind  in  wintry  fetters,  only  used 

Like  blocks  of  indurated  cold  in  store 

Against  the  fervid  season.     Oh  !  why  be 

Merely  content  the  icicle  to  play, 

With  chilly  finger  pointing  to  the  earth, 

In  glassy  glitter  bright,  when,  with  the  warm 

Puissant  spirit  from  the  tropic  clime, 

The  stubborn  stone  may  melt,  and  summer  run 

In  ruddy  splendor  through  the  fruitful  year  ? 

Why  should  the  tongue  be  hard,  when,  like  a  fire, 

The  soft  contagion  of  high  fellowship 

Will  fuse  the  lips  to  holy  tenderness  ; 

When  one  warm  word  outacts  the  boreal  blast, 

One  hearty  moment,  years  of  frozen  form  ; 

When  but  a  spark  may  kindle  and  inflame 

The  immortal  coal,  till,  like  a  star  of  God, 

It  shall  in  everlasting  lustre  burn  ? 

Build  with  thy  substance  ;  let  the  noble  gift 
Lay  stone  to  living  stone.     More  than  the  lips, 
The  hand  of  bounty,  like  a  generous  spring, 
Is  outlet  to  the  heart.     The  sacrifice 
A  brighter  wreath  of  testimony  wears 
Than  all  the  bays  of  fluent  eloquence ; 


THE    SACRED    IMPLEMENTS.  1 19 

Carries  a  richer  freight  in  tiny  rills, 

Than  wordy  seas  ;  and,  like  a  solid  isle, 

Is  fruitful,  sunny,  habitable,  more 

Than  all  the  roaring  ocean.     Windy  lips 

May  shake  another's  tree  ;  love  shakes  her  own. 

The  royal  blood  of  saintly  charity 

Allies  thee  to  the  heavens  ;  thrills  with  a  joy 

Above  the  flattered  monarch ;  has  a  smile 

Finer  than  welcomes  costly  ventures  home, 

Deep  to  the  edges  with  the  Orient. 

So  let  the  fruitful  harvest,  from  the  heart, 

Pay  its  glad  tribute.     Gather  still  to  give ; 

And,  with  the  prize  of  blessing,  stimulate 

To  harder  toil.     Let  poverty  be  rich, 

And  riches  richer,  by  the  gracious  gain 

That  multiplies  by  losing  ;  as  Christ  left 

Celestial  riches  to  enrich  the  world, 

And  reaps  the  everlasting  revenue. 

To  take  is  human  ;  to  bestow,  divine. 

Be  godlike,  crave  the  blessedness  of  God  ; 

And  on  thy  open  palm  will  angels  stand, 

To  crown  thee  with  the  heavenly  coronal. 

The  art  of  charity,  as  of  medicine, 
Is  wisely  to  discover  the  disease, 
And  aptly  minister.     Many  have  died 


120  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

By  dearth  of  drug,  many  by  overmuch 

In  skilless  use.     Yet  better  by  excess 

Harm,  than  by  lack  of  bounty.     Like  a  cloud, 

Freely  distil,  though  oft  the  copious  drops 

Bruise  the  frail  blossoms  they  would  fain  refresh. 

Study  the  gracious  art;  occasion  seek, 

Before  it  press  thee  with  its  beggar  breath. 

With  facile  pity,  heap  thy  bounteous  board 

With  blessings  of  the  poor  :  thy  luxury, 

To  share  with  all  the  needy ;  thy  rich  robes, 

The  royal  purple  of  the  thanks  of  men. 

The  ready  hinge  of  hospitality 

Keep  on  thy  welcome  door,  and  entertain, 

Not  angels  always,  with  so  sweet  a  smile, 

It  thanks  the  comer,  more  than  feels  the  care. 

The  generous  law  in  the  warm  hour  enact, 

And  keep  when  thou  art  cold  ;  nor  smile  to  win 

Against  thyself  a  niggard  victory, 

While  the  snug  dollar  sleeps.     An  open  ear 

In  lively  listening  to  the  shrill  wants  hold, 

That  through  the  rough  boughs  of  humanity 

Wail,  like  the  winds  of  winter.     As  one  sweeps, 

After  the  tuneless  touch  of  ignorance, 

With  skillful  hand,  the  organ,  and  the  harsh, 

Unraveled  masses  of  crude  melody, 

Pelting  the  air  with  discord,  weaves  anew 


THE   SACRED    IMPLEMENTS.  121 

In  music  sweet ;  so  play  the  human  keys, 
And  turn  the  jarring  harshness  of  the  world 
To  holy  song.     So  let  thy  charities, 
Like  choirs  of  happy  angels  with  their  harps, 
To  Heaven  on  high  melodious  praises  sing, 
From  many  a  lonely  hearth  of  widowhood, 
From  sad  misfortune,  wrestling  poverty, 
The  needy  learning,  and  the  sacrifice 
That  only  lives  by  thine.     In  every  cause 
Of  good,  or  in  the  seed,  or  in  the  bloom, 
Invest,  and  high  above  the  selfish  hoard, 
Secure  with  God,  celestial  treasure  heap. 
How  poor  the  wealth,  that  only  saves  to  lose, 
Enrich  the  thief,  or  feast  ingratitude, 
What  might  be  restless  in  abounding  use, 
And  fill  the  ages  with  its  interest ! 
Mites  may  be  millions  ;  for  the  little  will, 
In  heavenly  scales,  outweigh  the  easy  much, 
And  yield  a  richer  revenue,  more  and  more 
In  income  of  eternity,  thy  God 
Himself  the  increase  and  the  large  reward. 

The  manner  make  as  gracious  as  the  gift, 
Nor  in  the  giving  spoil  it.     Many  a  deed, 
That  has  the  stuff  of  immortality, 
Fails  by  distempered  method.     Art  is  best, 


122  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

So  self,  when  most  concealed.     The  holy  act 

Loves  to  the  heavens  the  honor  to  direct, 

And  hide  behind  the  hand.     The  selfish  dole, 

Dealing  with  greedy  expectation  back, 

Is  speculation  and  a  trade  of  death, 

Not  business  of  immortal  interest. 

In  a  pure  purpose  cleanse  thy  charity; 

Not  smooch  with  pride,  ambitiously  to  carve 

A  name  upon  a  crumbling  monument. 

Nor  give  with  blatant  boast,  with  brazen  blare 

To  bruit  a  famous  tumble  to  the  tomb, 

With  pompous  toss  of  metal,  wondering  eyes 

To  daze  with  sheen  of  liberality ; 

Nor  with  complacent  whisper  to  thyself : 

But  secretly,  in  simple  sight  of  Heaven, 

Or  for  example's  modest  ministry, 

And  God  will  sound  the  deed,  and  openly, 

In  everlasting  opulence,  reward. 

So  will  thy  alms,  forgotten  of  the  world, 

Be  as  angelic  harps,  resounding  choirs 

Of  hallelujah  to  His  holy  name, 

Giver  of  all,  himself  the  gift  supreme, 

Whose  bounty  only  is  the  ceaseless  spring 

Of  every  blessing  in  the  wilderness. 

Build  by  example,  in  such  symmetry 


THE   SACRED    IMPLEMENTS.  123 

And  thorough  substance  of  enduring  form, 

That  in  thy  simple  presence  men  may  feel 

The  majesty  of  goodness,  and  from  thee 

Draw  the  fine  argument  of  godliness. 

The  holy  character  cannot  be  hid, 

But,  like  the  odorous  breath  of  flowers  inclosed, 

Even  through  the  crannies  will  diffuse  itself. 

Example  is  the  potency  of  rules, 

The  nerve  of  truth,  the  mightiest  eloquence. 

Incarnate  law  in  loving  character, 

Precept  make  flesh.     Impersonate  the  right ; 

Thyself  the  rounded  fact  of  righteousness. 

Grow  by  the  viands  thou  dost  recommend, 

And  first  the  goblet  taste.     The  noble  course 

With  keen  steps  measure  to  the  shining  goal, 

Nor  point  the  finger,  and  not  win  the  crown. 

Whatever,  true  in  word,  thy  act  denies, 

Is  branded  false,  and  to  thee  only  true 

As  uttered  truthfully  in  daily  deeds. 

Thou  canst  not  mount  the  starry  eminence, 

If  to  thy  thought  thy  foot  be  infidel. 

The  tongue  may  marshal  all  the  glorious  truths, 

And  sound  the  trumpet  of  imperial  speech, 

Yet,  if  by  troops  of  action  unsustained, 

Like  a  lone  leader  left  of  all  his  train, 

Will  come  a  conquered  king.     The  silent  act 


124  THE   HOLY   BUILDERS. 

Is  mightier  than  the  actless  eloquence, 
That  thunders  and  bedeafens  with  its  rage  ; 
As  the  still  Morning,  from  the  orient  hills, 
Sandaled  with  sunshine,  spangled  with  the  dew, 
Comes  stronger  than  a  tempest,  and  afar 
Sheds  her  soft  potency  of  flower  and  fruit. 

And  bravely,  to  the  forces  of  the  night, 
Let  every  window  turn  its  blazing  ray, 
And  more  and  more,  with  still  increasing  gleam, 
Enwrap  the  rising  temple  :  whose  fair  sheen 
Beyond  the  nimblest  voice  its  blazon  throws, 
As  the  quick  flash  outstrips  the  sluggish  sound, 
Whose  waves  come  loitering,  and  so  often  wreck 
Their  airy  burden  on  the  stubborn  ear. 
And,  as  the  moon  her  nightly  urn  refills 
Out  of  the  solar  fountain,  and  afar, 
In  queenly  sovereignty,  on  land  and  sea, 
Her  silvery  blessing  sheds ;   so,  from  thy  Sun 
Daily  replenished,  pour  the  lustrous  grace 
In  brilliancy  of  life.     With  arrowy  beams 
Invade  the  darkness,  and  with  brightness  storm 
The  murky  ramparts  of  the  rebel  night. 
Put  on  the  radiant  armor ;  be  enrobed 
Like  the  bright  angel  vestured  with  the  sun. 
Why,  with  the  craven  bushel,  hide  the  flame 


THE   SACRED    IMPLEMENTS.  12$ 

That  all  around  should  shed  its  brilliant  beam? 

Only  a  taper  ?    Yet  a  taper  may 

From  a  pane  glimmer  on  the  midnight  sea, 

And  to  the  haven  cheer  the  struggling  oar. 

What  though  some  brighter  beacon,  on  the  height, 

With  flaming  forehead  gild  a  continent  ? 

Yet  mark  with  shining  steps  the  humbler  way ; 

And,  as  angelic  feet  instar  the  sky, 

Drop  the  bright  sparks  along  the  wilderness. 

Go,  study  well,  on  the  Judean  hills, 

The  gracious  glow  Divine,  whose  sinless  ray 

In  splendor  unextinguishable  shines. 

The  lustre  copy,  and  with  radiant  feet 

Pursue  the  pathway,  where  the  very  dust 

Is  dust  of  diamonds,  where  the  angels  walk, 

And  Jesus  burns  before.     Show  in  thyself, 

In  fulgent  characters  of  righteousness, 

The  operative  grace,  with  every  act 

A  beam  of  benediction, —  in  restraint, 

Honesty,  virtue,  patience,  godliness, 

The  warmth  of  worship,  and  the  spirit  prompt 

To  lowly  succor,  apt  to  every  form 

Of  active  and  of  suffering  holiness. 

Then  will  thy  stroke  be  victory,  and  thy  word 

An  energy  of  blessing,  and  thy  life, 

In  all  the  illumination  of  its  love, 


126  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

A  power  of  heaven,  a  presence  of  the  Lord. 

Thus  well-equipped,  and  potently  prepared 
With  this  fine  form  of  heavenly  implements, 
Let  them  not  rest,  but  with  endeavor  grand 
Use  in  the  daily  building.     He  is  best, 
Who  best  employs  his  talent  to  its  end ; 
He  worst  who,  with  the  noblest  furnishing, 
Sits  idlest.     Let  the  sap  to  blossom  spring, 
The  seed  to  harvest,  sword  to  victory. 
To  serve,  to  save,  is  glory.     Fill  the  day 
With  feats  of  willing  "work,  the  steady  stir 
Of  consecration  fruiting  into  fact. 
Let  nothing  loiter,  nothing  rest  too  soon, 
Before  the  ruddy  west  unyoke  the  hours  ; 
Nor  cumber  in  the  courtly  idleness, 
Boasting  its  barren  boughs.     But  heed  the  strong 
Impulsions  of  the  gracious  energy, 
That  through  the  brimming  currents  of  the  soul, 
Like  the  deep  pulse  upon  the  ocean  verge, 
Beats  in  the  bosom.     Feel  the  martial  thrill 
Of  love  impelling  to  her  victories. 
Watch,  watch  as  for  a  thief,  with  burning  lamp, 
And  ear  intent  to  hear  the  coming  Lord  ; 
Ready  thyself,  though  all  the  world  asleep. 
Work  while  the  day  is  high,  and  mortal  night 


THE  SACRED   IMPLEMENTS.  1 27 

Holds  back  the  fetters  of  her  impotence. 
Work,  with  the  heavenly  help,  as  though  the  pile 
And  finish  of  the  human  blessing  stood 
Upon  thy  faithful  word,  thy  single  hand. 
With  ceaseless  labor  is  the  harvest  won, 
With  steady  stroke  the  battle,  peace  with  blood, 
With  tireless  toil  the  kingdom  and  the  crown. 
The  universe  will  be  thy  theatre, 
Angelic  hosts  thy  cheering  witnesses, 
And  God  himself  spectator  and  reward. 


BOOK  VI. 
THE    SANCTUARY. 

A  prayer  for  direction  in  holy  labor.  The  field  everywhere.  Home  first, 
but  not  merely.  The  needy  regions  beyond.  Neighborly  help.  Battle 
with  ignorance  and  vice.  General  intelligence  promoted.  Impartial  justice 
and  honesty.  Power  of  the  indwelling  Christ.  His  Kingdom  chiefly  to  be 
advanced.  Its  blessing  the  blessing  of  the  world.  The  earth  divinely 
administered  in  its  interests.  Service  here,  the  most  effective  service.  En 
large,  strengthen,  beautify  for  the  King  in  his  glory. 

O  Wisdom  infinite  !  my  ready  hand 
Direct,  my  preparation  guide  and  bless, 
In  work  to-day.     My  ignorance  instruct ; 
My  feebleness  empower ;  my  courage  arm. 
Which  my  appointed  field  ?     My  duty  where  ? 
If  limit,  show  the  bound  I  may  not  pass ; 
Show  me  the  line  I  ought  to  overtake, 
What  battles  enter,  and  what  harvests  press 
To  yield  their  golden  fruitage  to  thy  praise. 

And  thus  the  answer  of  the  Oracles 
Clearly,  to  my  unwilling  ignorance, 
128 


THE  SANCTUARY.  I2() 

Opens  its  light :  Co-worker  with  the  King  ! 
If  thou  his  servant  and  his  warrior  true, 
Thy 'limits  only  are  the  utmost  bounds, 
Thy  battle  every  wrong,  thy  field  of  fruit, 
Wherever  can  thy  word  or  treasure  reach, 
Or  strong  petition  by  the  listening  throne. 
No  soul  so  distant,  ruin  so  complete, 
Not  to  be  numbered  for  thy  ministry ; 
Too  barren  for  thy  toil  to  benefit, 
Too  hapless  for  thy  helpful  sympathy, 
Too  lost  for  thy  quick  faithfulness  to  find. 
Go,  with  full  heart,  with  courage  undismayed, 
And  be  a  part  in  every  enterprise 
Of  human  weal,  of  heavenly  heraldry, 
And  press  the  purpose  to  the  farthest  isle. 

At  thy  own  hearth  begin ;  the  nearest  need 
Guide  the  first  blessing.     In  the  tenderest 
Domain  of  love  labor  with  earliest  care ; 
And,  as  the  leaven  the  closest  particles 
First  to  its  subtle  influence  subdues, 
So  first  amend  thy  bosom's  intimates. 
The  fireside  current  make  a  gentle  stream, 
Smooth  from  the  wrinkles  cf  impetuous  flow, 
Without  an  eddy,  sweeping  calmly  on 
To  the  vast  sea  eternal ;  and  thy  house 


130  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

A  bark  of  mercy,  freighted  for  the  skies 
With  the  ripe  sheaves  immortal.     Every  door 
And  window  open  to  the  gracious  wind, 
From  hills  celestial  blowing,  that  the  sweet 
Breath  of  the  heavens  may  every  chamber  fill, 
And  every  bosom  bless.     The  tender  flowers, 
From  thy  own  garden  gathered  in  the  dew, 
Bind  in  a  chaplet  of  unfading  bloom. 
The  pliant  lives,  that  in  the  social  sphere 
Sport  and  commingle,  mould  to  virtuous  shapes 
And  images  of  glory.     Let  the  prayer, 
Example,  precept,  richly  all  receive 
Renewal  by  the  promise,  and  become 
Incarnate  in  a  family  of  Christ. 
Breathe  softly,  as  the  wafting  of  sweet  wings 
Of  angels  in  the  air.     Let  courtesy 
Sit  queen,  and  cruel  harshness  never  wound 
The  sensitive  ear,  and  discord  shuddering  flee, 
As  flee  the  furies  from  the  gates  of  bliss. 
Be  patient,  patient ;  and  the  hasty  word 
Which,  loose,  will  raven  like  the  evening  wolf, 
Hold  in  the  bars  of  safety.     Bear  the  cross 
Fibre  of  things,  the  thousand  vexing  cares, 
With  such  a  sweet,  ennobling  fortitude, 
Such  gentle  bravery,  that  the  heart  will  find 
In  the  still  fold  a  fairer  victory 


THE   SANCTUARY.  1 3 I 

Than  in  the  stormy  field,  and  home  itself 
Win  to  rejoicing  peace.     The  potent  smile 
With  charming  mastery  wield  ;  the  very  rod 
Wet  with  thy  tears,  and  smite  with  tenderness. 
The  daily  shrine  with  cheerful  offerings  heap, 
And  light  the  sacred  fire,  all  to  consume, 
A  holocaust  of  love,  upon  whose  flame 
Blessings  divine  descend.     So  will  thy  house 
Glow,  like  a  mansion  on  the  hills  of  light, 
With  a  celestial  sunshine,  and  the  wings 
Of  angels  love  to  stoop  and  linger  long, 
Their  heart  and  flight  to  freshen,  and  forget 
It  is  the  earth,  and  not  their  native  heaven. 

Remain  not,  folded  in  thy  pleasant  joys, 
Within  the  narrow  circle  of  thy  walls, 
Content  if  thine  are  blessed.     Cold  is  thy  fire, 
If  on  thy  hearth-stone  only ;  and  thy  bread 
Bitter,  which  feeds  alone  thy  selfish  blood ; 
Thy  house  a  prison,  if  it  hold  thy  world, 
Thy  heaven  a  fiction.     Let  the  angels  in ; 
Forth  let  the  angels  for  a  noble  flight. 
Close  windows  stifle,  and  the  saintliest  breath 
Fouls  the  pent  air.     Along  the  hedges  walk, 
And  press  the  needy  thresholds  of  the  poor. 
To  share  with  others  sweetens  all  the  rest. 


132  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

The  open  flower  receives  the  richest  dew. 
The  musk  and  odor  of  thy  influence 
Thou  canst  not  prison ;  still  wilt  be  a  part, 
Where'er  thy  lot,  and  must  the  ambient  sphere 
Pervade,  inevitable  as  the  air, — 
Contamination,  or  a  breath  of  heaven 
The  heavenly  savor  is  a  saving  balm, 
And  lips  of  love  sweeten  the  elements. 
Freely  inspire  at  home  ;  freely  abroad 
Breathe,  and  the  holy  strength  invigorate 
By  nimble  exercise  of  charity. 

Hark  !  howls  the  tempest,  full  of  wrath  the  sky 
Threatens  its  fury  on  the  passenger. 
But  what  thy  comfort  to  a  blessing  given  ? 
The  battle  rages  ;   enter  valiantly. 
Inaction  is  the  action  of  the  wrong, 
And  silence  criminal. encouragement. 
On,  with  the  crimson  banner.     Like  a  sun, 
Love  melt  the  frost  of  thy  timidity. 
Wide  throw  the  holy  challenge.     Nothing  spare, 
That  makes  the  heavens  its  aim  of  blasphemy, 
Or  man  its  cruel  mark.     Go,  gallantly 
Tread  the  rough  paths  of  ruin,  and  the  curse 
Correct  with  blessing.     To  the  weak  be  staff, 
A  sun  to  tears,  a  spring  to  thirsty  lips, 


THE   SANCTUARY.  133 

Morning  to  darkness,  bands  to  broken  hopes, 
A  guide  to  error,  and  a  rod  to  wrong ; 
Thy  name  remembered  in  the  widow's  prayer, 
And  lisped  by  needy  firesides  ;  more  a  praise 
Than  feats  of  proud  ambition.     It  may  be 
Thou  canst  hear  little,  little  see ;  but  know, 
The  fearful  ocean,  even  from  thy  feet, 
Around  the  planet  rages,  and  afar 
Rolls  the  deep  sorrow.     And  the  living  sea 
On  many  a  secret  shore  dashes  and  moans, 
Beyond  the  eye,  beyond  the  ear,  but  not 
Beyond  the  generous  reach  of  sympathy. 

Sprung  from  the  grisly  loins  of  darkness,  vice 
Prowls  in  the  night,  the  unwary  wanderer 
All  ready  to  devour  ;  but  sneaks  and  flees, 
Like  a  wolf,  timid  at  the  dawn  of  day : 
While  virtue  revels  in  the  copious  light. 
A  hallowed  knowledge  was  the  potent  means 
By  which  so  well  the  fathers  toiled  and  built, 
By  which  as  wisely  will  their  children  build. 
But  ignorance  is  of  every  lust  the  prey, 
Ambition's  tool,  the  ready  instrument 
Of  purposes  infernal.     It  invites 
The  tread  of  wrong,  the  fetters  of  deceit, 
The  yoke  of  superstition,  hell  itself 


134  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

To  smite  with  blast  of  endless  infamy. 

Assail  it,  then,  this  vampire  of  the  soul, 

This  dusky  mother  of  a  beastly  brood, 

With  weapons  of  the  light,  and  pierce  the  thick 

Scales  of  this  ravening  dragon  of  the  dark. 

The  school  of  knowledge,  like  a  fortress,  plant 

Under  the  sacred  shadow  of  the  spire  ; 

Strengthened  with  science,  beautified  with  art, 

Manned  with  great  reason,  Argus-eyed  and  clear, 

To  peer  into  the  myriad  mysteries, 

The  method  of  the  world,  the  marvelous  soul, 

The  providence  of  history,  God  himself, 

The  boundless  deep  of  truth.    This,  by  the  free 

Eradication  of  conceits,  prepare 

The  spirit  for  the  mellow  hand  of  Heaven, 

And  healing  light ;  as,  when  the  forests  fall, 

The  savage  lairs,  and  pools  of  pestilence, 

Are  open  to  the  searching  of  the  sun, 

And  harvests  of  delight.     The  murky  gates, 

Ready  to  pour  pestiferous  volumes  forth, 

Flank  with  the  virtuous  pen.     The  mighty  press 

With  threatening  thunder  arm  against  the  wrong, 

With  cheering  detonation  for  the  right, 

And  fearless  shafts  of  justice,  every  line 

A  massive  missile  in  its  righteousness. 

The  many  to  the  glorious  hope  inflame, 


THE  SANCTUARY.  135 

Equipped  with  knowledge,  wisely  disciplined, 

And  every  fleeting  folly  under  foot, 

To  win  the  triumph  of  a  noble  life 

Of  service  and  renown.     The  youthful  ranks 

Train  to  the  manhood  of  the  martial  days, 

When  skilful  strokes,  and  cultured  courage,  gain 

The  foremost  garlands  of  the  victory. 

And  let  the  white  plume  of  the  hoary  head 

Flame  in  the  van  of  gallant  leadership, 

All  realms  of  learning,  and  all  orbs  of  light, 

To  conquer  for  the  service  of  the  King. 

But  light  is  darkness,  if  integrity 
Hold  not  the  measure  with  an  honest  hand, 
And  knowledge  prove  not,  in  its  place  of  power, 
A  righteous  judge.     As  on  the  final  day, 
So  far  as  final  fits  the  moving  hour, 
Let  Justice,  with  the  even  balance,,  weigh 
To  all  the  impartial  due  ;  whose  holy  court 
Should  ever  be,  as  heaven's  high  vestibule, 
Bannered  with  mercy,  while  it  wields  the  sword. 
With  noble  equity  thy  lips  adorn, 
The  foe  to  justify,  or  thyself  condemn ; 
Readier  to  wrong  thy  right,  than  right  thy  wrong. 
To  others  give  the  custom  of  thy  claim, 
And,  as  thou  weighest  thyself,  thy  neighbor  weigh. 


1 36  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

With  prompt  and  sterling  payment  doubly  make 

Debt  into  credit ;  to  the  conscience  pay, 

And  use  the  stringent  text  of  honesty. 

Nor  steal  by  overliving  ;  nor  defraud 

By  plunder  of  keen  bargains,  anxiously 

Swelling  thy  house  with  legal  robberies. 

Nor  live  to  glitter,  pompous  for  an  hour, 

With  gilding  from  the  back  of  poverty. 

But  with  a  sturdy  cutting  prune  expense 

For  charitable  uses  ;  modesty, 

Not  luxury  with  her  rapacious  train, 

Throne  in  the  thrifty  kingdom.     Then  wilt  thou 

Never  be  basely  temped  to  abuse 

Thy  honest  promise  to  dishonesty. 

Oh,  how  the  Christ  thy  loving  hand  will  fill 
With  such  a  potent  sceptre  as  no  king 
Ever  extended  from  his  royal  throne  ; 
With  an  imperial  sway  of  benefit 
Reaching  the  common  need,  the  common  life 
Out  of  its  hard  and  harsh  necessities 
Lifting  to  heart  and  fortune  !     The  energies 
Are  to  new  vigor  quickened,    spirits  tamed, 
Stones  softened,  fallow  acres  more  in  fruit, 
Purer  the  air,  the  roses  sweeter,  thorns 
Less  sharp  and  cunning  in  the  tutored  soil, 


THE  SANCTUARY.  137 

The  poverty  less  poor,  riches  more  kind, 
Industry  more  rewarded  to  its  worth, 
Progress  a  passion,  love  a  law  enforced : 
Thyself  an  illustration,  and  a  power, 
Everything  touching,  and  with  every  touch 
A  grace  of  blessing ;  till  the  present  life 
Share  in  the  promise  with  the  life  to  come, 
And  earth  reflect  the  gleam  of  paradise. 

Thy  neighboring  circle  love,  however  dead, 
And  all  the  contact  of  humanity, 
But,  with  a  warmer  glow,  the  living  Church, 
The  embodied  Lord,  like  the  cherubic  ark 
Cloistered  in  incense.     With  peculiar  flame 
Burn  toward  Jerusalem,  whose  sprinkled  gates 
Invite  the  nations  to  her  guard ;  and  build 
Her  sacred  towers  with  special  sacrifice. 
A  hundred  harvests  may  be  reaped  in  one  ; 
In  single  fields,  a  hundred  victories  : 
So  in  one  blessing  thousands  may  be  blessed. 
And  in  one  kingdom  all  the  world  be  won, 
Thy  best  gifts  to  the  Holy  City  give, 
Thy  richest  wisdom,  most  devoted  toil, 
Most  tender  orisons.     Her  blessing  make 
Thy  warmest  wish,  her  interests  lift  above 
Thy  highest  patriotism,  and  her  name 


138  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Engrave  for  ever  on  thy  hand  and  heart : 
Whose  heavenly  grace,  above  all  earthly  good, 
The  needy  nations  blesses,  as  the  bright 
Orb  of  the  day,  more  than  the  firmament 
Bespangled  nightly  with  its  shimmering  fires, 
Is  harvest,  beauty,  power.     The  glorious  Church  ! 
Field  of  the  richest  fruit,  the  noblest  sphere 
Of  thought  and  action,  end  of  Providence, 
And  goal  of  all  this  mighty  race  of  years. 

For  why,  another  moment,  should  the  earth, 
Teeming  with  sin,  her  perilous  orbit  wheel 
Through  the  hot  flashes  of  the  flaming  throne  ? 
Roll  on  in  whirlwind,  swept  with  furious  blasts  - 
And  desolating  passions  ?  her  fair  fields 
To  winter  turn,  her  flowers  to  fell  decay, 
Her  happy  notes  to  requiem  ?     Longer  why, 
On  all  her  shores,  in  carnival  of  death, 
Should  nations  dance  to  devils,  and  the  tread 
Of  human  woe  its  bitter  vintage  crush 
In  the  full  press  of  sorrow  ?     Why  should  war, 
In  fierce  carousal,  at  ambition's  nod,> 
Riot  again  in  ravage,  thrust  his  cup 
Of  blood  and  tears  to  millions,  trample  down 
The  springing  verdure  of  a  thousand  hopes, 
Like  a  tornado  plow  the  peaceful  lands, 


THE  SANCTUARY.  139 

And  sow  the  earth  with  rash  and  vengeful  seed 

Of  hell  in  harvest  ?     Why  should  yet  a  soul, 

Of  mortal  mould,  by  struggling  throes  be  launched 

Into  the  tempests  of  the  tempting  world, 

Pursued  by  furies,  only  to  be  lost, 

It  may  be,  wrecked  in  ruthless  billows,  caught 

In  the  fierce  whirlwinds  of  eternal  storm  ? 

Why,  why  ?     Because,  above  the  din  is  heard 

The  music  of  redemption ;  through  the  skies, 

Above  the  lightning,  gleams'  the  light  of  love ; 

Hope  gives  a  harp  to  sorrow ;  every  wrong 

Will  bend  its  murky  banner  to  His  praise, 

Whose  mighty  hand,  upon  the  helm  of  things, 

Steers  to  the  good  supreme.     It  is  enough. 

Lo  !  the  embowering  Eden  springs  again  ; 

And  the  celestial  kingdom,  like  the  stone 

Cut  from  the  mountain  without  human  hands, 

Shall  yet,  a  mount  of  glory,  fill  the  earth, 

It  is  enough.     Let  every  fearful  thought 

Be  swallowed  in  the  amazing  benison 

Of  promise,  brooding  o'er  the  struggling  lands. 

To  serve  this  Kingdom  well  will  best  resolve 
The  riddles  of  the  race  ;  best  educate, 
Repress  corruption,  help  aspiring  hope, 
Ennoble  honor,  purify  the  marts, 


140  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Embellish  art,  the  barren  fertilize, 

Compact  the  State  in  virtue,  legislate 

For  the  imperial  justice,  fill  the  bounds 

With  prosperous  peace  and  order,  and  adorn 

The  fair  escutcheon  with  undimmed  renown. 

Here  is  the  best  celestial  bounty  yields, 

The  best  of  promise,  and  the  best  estate  ; 

The  sweetest  viands,  gold  of  finer  mould, 

Hearts  in  a  dearer  fellowship,  the  hand 

Ampler  in  shapes  of  willing  sacrifice, 

The  talents  brighter,  speech  of  richer  tone, 

The  spirit  nobler  in  its  furnishing, 

Braver  in  battle,  grander  in  defeat, 

Humbler  in  triumph,  nearer  to  the  crown. 

Thrice,  thrice  for  man  is  every  stroke  for  Christ. 

His  temple,  rising,  elevates  the  race  ; 

His  kingdom  served  is  every  nation  blessed ; 

His  cause  advanced  advances  all  the  world : 

As,  in  the  monster  buildings  which  they  move, 

The  strong  foundation  takes  the  height  along. 

This  temple,  then,  this  heavenly  palace  fair, 
Engage  thy  teeming  interest  more  and  more, 
Thy  love  enlist  in  warmer  sacrifice. 
Brighten  the  light,  with  every  grace  adorn, 
Thy  very  presence  ornament  and  power, 


THE  SANCTUARY.  141 

Thy  life  a  living  lustre  ;  that,  by  thee 

Enriched  and  quickened,  it  may  shine  the  more,  • 

Not  for  thy  blessing  merely,  but  afar 

The  dark  and  dreary  lands  to  illumine,  till 

Earth  in  the  splendor  roll.     Nor  self  alone, 

But  meekly  seek  to  enlighten  and  enlarge 

Each  fellow  part.     The  struggling  brother  cheer, 

Blow  in  his  smouldering  embers,  lift  his  cross, 

And  nurse  the  hopeful  promise  to  its  fruit. 

Arms  for  the  weak,  a  bosom  for  the  cold, 

Give,  like  the  shepherd.     And  the  trembling  hope, 

Whose  balance  to  despair  a  mote  may  turn, 

The  smoking  flax,  a  heedless  breath  may  quench, 

The  bruised  reed,  a  hasty  blow  may  break, 

Help  gently,  with  a  soft  and  tender  touch, 

Till  faltering  faith  with  fervor  grasp  the  Throne. 

Nor  yet,  in  weak  compliance,  shameful  fear, 

Withhold  in  need  the  keen  severity. 

The  timid  press,  the  indolent  arouse, 

The  bold  encourage,  and  the  rash  restrain ; 

That  all  the  holy  forces  may,  as  one, 

Meet  the  infernal  legions,  and  compact 

Stand  to  the  steady  task  of  victory. 

Augment  the  present  with  devoted  glow 
Of  new  immortals,  won  with  fervid  pains, 


THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Made  captive  in  thy  martial  godliness, 
And  bound  from  Satan  to  the  car  of  Christ. 
Nor  rest  content,  while  in  the  wrathful  ranks, 
Unblest,  accursed,  one  victim  still  remains. 
More  is  a  soul  redeemed  than  empires  won  ; 
A  soul  in  bondage,  worse  than  realms  enslaved. 
Then  win  them,  win  them  with  the  might  of  love, 
The  timely  thunder,  tender  eloquence, 
The  ecstasy  of  hope,  the  tug  of  fear, 
And  all  the  moving  arguments  of  Christ, 
Out  of  the  palace,  hovel,  dismal  den, 
Wherever  sin  has  victims,  to  escape, 
While  wide  the  gates  of  safety  open  stand, 
And  mercy  beckons,  and  the  way  is  free  : 
Escape,  and  in  the  refuge  of  God's  house, 
In  peace  and  rest  and  saintly  fellowship, 
And  all  the  sovereign  comforts  of  the  heart, 
A  home  and  table  find,  where  the  great  King 
Sits  with  his  children,  and  the  feasts  of  earth 
Are  paltry  to  the  pleasures  of  that  hour : 
That  hour,  the  earnest  of  celestial  days 
Of  joy  and  triumph,  when  the  glorious  Bride, 
In  perfect  beauty  robed,  and  peerless  grace, 
Shall  with  the  Bridegroom  reign,  and  evermore 
In  heavenly  courts  hold  happy  festival. 


BOOK  VII. 
THE  COURT  OF  THE  NATION. 

Prayer  for  native  land.  Her  providential  preparation.  The  Pilgrim 
Fathers ;  guided  and  defended  of  Heaven.  The  revolutionary  days.  Mar 
velous  growth  and  prosperity.  Slavery,  its  bitter  fruits.  The  war  of  the 
rebellion.  Judgment  and  mercy.  The  noble  loyalty  and  sacrifice.  Brave 
devotion  of  the  misguided  South.  The  Divine  Hand  everywhere  manifest. 
Providential  acts  and  men.  Glorious  issue  of  liberty.  The  wounds  to  be 
tenderly  healed.  The  arts  of  peace.  The  greatness  of  the  country  calls 
for  great  souls,  broad  plans,  generous  laws.  Discipline  men  for  worthy  seh- 
governmcnt.  Intelligence,  to  be  safe,  must  be  religious.  The  Bible  ban 
ished  invites  destruction.  A  healthy  literature.  Wealth  wisely  used.  .  The 
home  missionary.  The  Sabbath.  Virtue  in  high  places.  The  righteous 
bailot.  Political  corruption.  Glorious  destiny  of  the  virtuous  nation. 

O  Thou,  who  didst  with  gracious  wing  defend 
Thy  chosen  people,  in  the  times  of  old, 
And  plant  them  in  the  glorious  land,  fit  home 
Of  hill  and  valley,  flowing  with  the  rich 
Gifts  of  thy  goodness,  bulwarked  with  the  wall 
Of  burning  desert,  mountain,  and  the  sea, 
Secure  and  separate  for  a  race  sublime, 
A  handful,  yet  the  leaven  of  the  world ; 


144  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

And,  afterward,  didst  girdle  with  thy  waves 
The  island  mistress  of  the  watery  realms, 
England,  the  glory  of  a  thousand  years, 
Mother  of  nations,  womb  of  mighty  men, 
Nurse  of  industrious  arts  and  valiant  arms, 
Refuge  of  persecuted  liberty, 
With  potent  sceptre  reaching  round  the  globe, 
And  half  enriching  with  her  tongue  and  laws ; 
God  of  the  nations !  who  dost  still  direct 
In  sovereign  empire  the  affairs  of  men, 
And  art  preparing  in  the  virgin  West 
A  Cyrus  of  the  peoples,  to  rebuild 
With  larger  hand  the  temple  of  thy  grace, 
Not  for  our  pride,  but  for  thy  worthy  praise, 
Help  me,  with  humble,  patriotic  glow, 
Amid  the  rising  glories  which  I  see, 
To  sing  the  wonders  of  thy  providence, 
And  breathe  a  blessing  on  my  native  land. 

My  country !     O'er  her  marvelous  domain 
Of  mountain,  river,  valley,  with  the  best 
Of  nature  gathered  from  a  hundred  climes, 
God  sent  the  mightiest  angels  to  prepare 
A  habitation  worthy  of  the  prime 
And  paragon  of  nations,  and  the  last 
Experiment  of  time.     The  ages  bend 


THE  COURT  OF  THE  NATION.          145 

Hither  their  eager  steps,  and  hither  bring 

The  richest  ark  of  human  hopes,  the  seed 

Most  fruitful  with  a  boundless  revenue, 

The  blood  most  potent  in  the  generous  flow 

Of  freedom,  courage,  dauntless  energy. 

In  this  new  land,  and  on  the  verge  of  years, 

The  past  will  sum  its  wisdom,  and  the  soul, 

With  an  unfettered  liberty,  afresh 

Try  her  e.\ploring  pinions,  and  the  race 

Its  massy  possibilities  unfold, 

Thrilled  to  its  very  feet,  the  lowest  raised 

Like  sceptred  kings  to  rule.     Hidden  it  lay 

Long  in  the  womb  of  night,  unknown  and  still, 

Nursing  its  grandeur  in  the  solitude, 

Till  God  was  ready,  and  the  nations  ripe, 

To  bring  "  Time's  noblest  offspring"  to  the  birth. 

The  cradle  was  of  Heaven,  and  royally 
Rocked  with  the  sons  of  God.     That  little  band 
Heroic,  of  the  choicest  elements 
That  ever  mingled  in  the  sturdy  grace 
Of  saint  or  martyr,  God  prepared,  and  wrought 
To  that  majestic  mould  ;  from  land  to  land 
Battered  and  shaped  to  the  sublime  design ; 
Across  the  wintry  waters  led  their  way, 
As  surely  as  the  migratory  wings 


I46  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Without  a  compass  sail,  to  the  rough  arms 

And  rugged  virtues  of  a  shore,  whose  wilds 

And  savage  wigwams  had  dispeopled  been 

By  his  precursive  scourge ;   their  heart  sustained 

Through  the  rude  season  of  the  wintry  dread, 

The  deathly  havoc,  and  the  bitter  cost 

To  launch  their  fragile  hope  ;   inspirited 

Their  trembling  courage  gloriously  to  lift, 

Above  the  storm,  their  faith  and  confidence 

High  as  the  Throne  ;  and  taught  them  how  to  build, 

On  broad  foundations  of  intelligence, 

On  adamant  of  law  and  liberty, 

On  the  old  granite  of  eternal  truth, 

A  commonwealth  for  Christ.    With  sleepless  watch 

He  kept  them,  with  angelic  sentinels, 

And  not  a  footfall  but  was  heard  in  heaven ; 

Spread  over  them  his  shield ;  the  savage  heart 

Tuned  to  their  friendship  ;   turned  the  hostile  aim  ; 

Armed  the  fleet  elements,  on  mighty  wings 

Mustering  the  ready  tempest  to  the  spoil 

And  watery  havoc  of  the  sailing  war ; 

Nursed,  as  an  eagle  fledged  within  the  storm, 

Their  early  feathers  to  the  strength  of  years, 

And  through  the  thunder  bore  them  to  the  day ; 

Hearing  the  hearts  which,  in  a  cloud  of  prayer, 

Through  all  those  years  of  faith  and  pilgrimage, 


THE   COURT   OF   THE   NATION.  147 

Rose  in  rich  incense  to  his  holy  throne. 

And*when  the  days  of  bloody  peril  came, 
And  the  hot  wheels  of  revolution  rolled 
With  smoking  axle  o'er  the  trembling  land, 
Bearing  the  matchless  form  of  Liberty, 
The  same  Almighty  Providence  controlled 
The  way  of  war,  and  rode  the  elements  ; 
Nerved  the  young  nation  to  the  sacrifice  ; 
Prepared  a  sturdy  soldiery,  that  caught 
The  father's  fervor  and  the  mother's  faith, 
In  homes  that  gladly  suffered  in  their  loss ; 
Upheld  their  waning  hope,  their  feebleness 
Encouraged  through  the  naked,  friendless  night, 
And  tore  the  darkness  from  the  rising  day ; 
Brought  sunshine  from  the  stormy  discontent, 
And  turned  the  direful  current  of  defeat 
To  glorious  victory  ;  a  Leader  gave, 
Matchless  in  wisdom,  matchless  in  the  skill 
And  triumph  of  delay,  matchless  to  win 
With  his  transcendent  virtues  such  a  meed 
Of  admiration,  love  and  confidence, 
His  will  was  armies,  and  his  wishes  law; 
His  favor  more  an  argument  of  right 
Than  reason  in  a  hundred  weighty  tongues ; 
His  presence  more  assurance  of  success 


148  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Than  the  grim  legions  of  embattled  war; 
His  counsel,  statute  for  the  coming  time ; 
Crowned  with  a  grace  of  native  majesty 
Too  high  for  any  royal  toy  to  tempt ; 
Marvel  of  rulers,  and  the  foremost  form 
Of  patriotic  grandeur.     Nor  the  less, 
He  who  the  first,  the  lesser  orbs  ordained 
To  bless  our  heavens  :  the  Martyr  of  the  Hill, 
So  soon  to  seal  his  passion  with  his  blood ; 
The  Champion  of  the  rights,  of  fearless  lips 
And  bribeless  poverty  ;  the  Orator, 
Kindling  the  people  with  his  tongue  of  flame ; 
The  Master  of  finance,  too  early  dead 
At  the  fierce  hands  of  envious  rivalry ; 
The  Hero  of  debate,  whose  arguments, 
Like  fearful  cannon,  battered  at  the  wrong ; 
The  Statesman,  fit  to  wield  the  mighty  pen 
Of  independence  ;  the  strong-witted  Sage, 
As  lightning  from  the  clouds,  to  draw  the  fire 
From  the  impending  peril,  and  enchant 
A  nation  to  embattled  help,  whose  grace, 
And  princely  blood,  and  valor  all  combined 
To  crown  her  friendship  with  her  La  Fayette. 
He  set  those  seats  of  council,  where  supreme 
In  delegated  sway  the  people  sat, 
With  richer  stuff  enriching  all  the  past ; 


QOURT   OF  THE   NATION.  149 

Inspired  to  build,  upon  the  solid  ground 

Eternal,  such  an  edifice  of  rule, 

A  government  so  gracious,  free,  humane, 

So  full  of  fair  advantage,  all  the  world 

To  such  a  shrine  in jpilgrimage  will  come, 

To  instruct  their  principles,  refresh  their  hopes, 

Quicken  the  pulses  of  their  rising  life, 

And  all  their  law  and  liberty  enlarge. 

And  when  the  stormy  elements  of  strife 
Were  buried,  and  the  land  was  still  again, 
How  tenderly  He  nursed  our  needy  peace ; 
Disarmed  the  tempest ;  clothed  our  largest  hope 
With  larger  blessing  ;  bound  prosperity 
To  ceaseless  service  •,  freighted  with  the  world 
Our  nimble  sails  upon  a  hundred  seas  ; 
From  rock-ribbed  cabinets  of  wealth  unlocked 
Amazing  treasures  ;  in  the  fertile  fields 
Surpassing  harvests  lavished ;  and  the  blood 
Of  many  lands  led  hither,  to  combine, 
As  rills  the  river,  a  mightier  tide  of  men ! 
And,  for  the  mustering  millions,  wider  grew 
The  land  by  friendly  purchase,  till  across 
The  continent  it  stretched  its  ample  arms, 
And  bathed  in  both  the  oceans.     Nor  awoke 
The  martial  thunder  in  our  peaceful  sky, 


THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Above  the  rattling  on  the  savage  edge 
In  ceaseless  turmoil  of  inglorious  strife, 
Save  v.hen  two  clouds  of  battle  hurtled  past, 
Steered  by  the  Almighty,  pregnant  with  new  power ; 
The  one,  which  gave  us  with  the  watery  Queen 
Naval  dominion,  while  the'  other  rained 
The  teeming  riches  of  the  land  of  gold. 

But  soon  the  world's  dark  history  renewed 
Its  lesson  in  our  light,  how  easily 
The  prosperous  years  decay.     And  our  fair  tree, 
In  its  rank  growth,  engendered  bitterness, 
And  needed  the  encounter  of  the  storm 
To  shake  its  vicious  fruit.     For,  puffed  with  pride, 
Ambition,  greed,  the  insolence  of  power, 
We  held  the  brother  with  unrighteous  bands ; 
Put  in  a  partial  court  injustice  vile ; 
To  legal  dignity  exalted  wrong  ; 
Our  free  flag  stained  with  taint  of  tyranny ; 
Smote  the  protester,  raged  insultingly 
Against  the  meekest  murmur  of  dissent ; 
Twisted  the  truth  divine ;  our  wisdom  drew 
From  oracles  of  folly,  and  more  feared 
Hell's  indignation  than  the  wrath  of  Heaven  : 
Expecting,  in  perversion  of  the  rule 
Of  righteousness  and  promise  of  the  sky, 


THE   COURT    OF    THE    NATION.  15! 

Harvests  of  peace  from  fruitful  seeds  of  war, 

From  dragons'  teeth  a  blessing,  smiles  of  love 

From  stinging  scourges,  glory  to  the  hand 

Adrip  with  servile  blood.     Then,  from  the  clouds 

Pregnant  with  judgment  and  avenging  storm, 

The  fateful  fountain  of  a  purer  age, 

In  the  ripe  hour  of  dread  deliverance, 

Bursts  the  tornado.     For  upon  his  throne 

God  heard  the  groaning,  heard  the  pleading  wounds, 

The, pangs  of  sundered  homes,  the  suppliant  woe, 

Stored  in  his  bosom,  till  iniquity 

Had  filled  her  cup ;  then  blessed  the  patient  hope, 

Let  madness  have  its  way,  the  land  to  cleanse 

With  fearful  washing  in  the  flood  of  war  ; 

Till  ceased  the  great  oppression,  and  the  right, 

No  longer  grinding  in  the  mills  of  wrong, 

Rose  in  new  honor  to  her  sovereign  seat. 

When  pride  unblushing,  flaunting  insolence, 
Against  the  sky  contemptuous  banners  turns, 
Insulted  mercy  must  to  frowns  unfold, 
And  covered  justice  show  her  naked  edge. 
For  better  thousands  than  a  nation  die  ; 
Millions,  than  fall  the  throne  of  righteousness, 
Or  freedom  perish,  or  the  truth  be  bound. 
'Tis  love  in  battle,  when  the  battle  must 


IS2  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Defend  the  altar,  vindicate  the  right. 

Hell  was  determined,  Heaven  determined  too. 

Which  will  be  victor  ?     All  this  power  of  wrong, 

Petted  and  nursed  and  bannered,  must  be  spoiled, 

Law  purified,  the  foul  reproach  removed, 

Unclasped  the  rugged  clutch  of  tyranny, 

And  the  great  nation  girded  for  the  race, 

In  nobler  mood,  in  ampler  liberty, 

To  win  the  foremost  garland  of  the  world. 

But  judgment  lingers,  loath  to  execute  ; 
Long  lingers,  in  a  loving  patience  held, 
Till  it  must  be,  and  then  the  Throne  itself 
Arms  for  the  struggle.     Up  the  people  spring, 
Filled  with  a  zeal  whose  hot  combustion  makes, 
Like  water-drops  for  mighty  enginery, 
Feebleness  force.     As  when  an  earthquake  heaves 
The  bosom  of  the  sea,  whose  lifted  wave 
With  beetling  brow  rages  beyond  its  bound, 
Whelms  the  fair  cities,  and  a  direful  track 
Of  havoc  leaves  along  the  continent ; 
So  pours  the  northern  flood,  a  living  tide 
Of  conquering  valor,  southward  to  the  Gulf. 
Thousands  on  tens  of  thousands,  eagerly, 
Into  the  deadly  vortex  of  the  strife 
Leap,  in  their  patriotic  panoply, 


THE  COURT  OF  THE  NATION.          153 

To  mix  their  blood  with  old  heroic  streams, 

And  save  anew  in  freedom's  martyrdom. 

From  hill  to  hill  unwavering  loyalty 

Waves  the   old  banner,   and  the  utmost  heart 

Thrills  with  the  sterling  blood.     Sea  shouts  to  sea, 

And  mount  to  mountain,  till  the  reeling  land 

Rings  with  the  martial  uproar,  as  the  heavens, 

When  all  the  electric  forces  of  the  clouds 

Are  busy  with  their  thunders.     And  the  Church, 

The  holy  herald  of  the  Prince  of  Peace, 

In  every  righteous  struggle  rightly  first, 

Potent  in  prayer,  matchless  in  sympathy, 

Of  wise  and  valiant  lips,  whose  eloquence 

Outpeers  the  forceful  implements  of  war, 

In  foremost  fervency  divinely  moved, 

Awakes  to  her  high  duty,  feels  the  hour, 

Stands  to  her  privilege  to  lead  the  van, 

Direct  the  issue,  sanctify  the  blood, 

And  bind  the  flowing  wounds.     Nor  in  the  field 

Alone,  and  stormy  forum  of  debate, 

And  desk  of  sacred  potence,  and  the  brain 

Of  manly  pith  and  counsel,  are  the  seeds 

Of  victory  sown  and  gathered  ;  but  in  spheres 

Of  womanly  renown,  where  busy  hearts 

With  nimble  fingers  toil ;  by  weary  beds, 

Smoothed  with  the  gentle  touch  ;  in  closet  walls, 


154  THE    TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Where  wrestles  sleepless  faith  ;  in  quiet  homes, 

Reft  of  their  noblest  in  the  sacrifice, 

Which  bravely  weep  in  widowed  loneliness, 

Or  pride  maternal,  to  have  borne  a  gift 

Fit  for  her  country's  altar.     And  the  stream 

Of  valorous  blood,  to  fertilize  afresh 

The  sunny  fields  of  matchless  liberty, 

Is  swift  and  ample,  as  the  Jordan  flood, 

Full  of  fertility's  rich  harbingers, 

Through  leagues  of  radiant  landscape  rushes  on 

Down  to  the  Sea  of  Death.     The  noble  act 

Is  learned  in  rapid  lessons  ;  while,  amidst 

The  struggling  right,  the  blatant  sympathy 

With  wrong  sounds,  in  the  patriot  element, 

Like  discord  loose  in  heaven.     The  mighty  bond 

The  fathers  wove  grows  stronger  every  hour ; 

While  pale  disunion  mutters  to  the  night, 

And  quails  before  the  storm.     Oh  !  it  was  great, 

To  be  a  part  as  small  as  infancy 

In  the  majestic  movements  of  the  time, 

To  feel  the  fervid  thrill,  to  catch  the  mood, 

To  add  a  breath,  or  put  a  finger  to, 

Or  pay  one  ruddy  drop,  or  golden  mite, 

Or  sigh  of  prayer,  or  jot  of  victory. 

And  still  the  brothers,  with  a  strange  conceit 


THE   COURT   OF    THE    NATION.  155 

Of  right  in  their  rebellious  enterprise, 

With  kindled  passion  bend  their  energies 

To  the  enormous  task  of  hopeless  war, 

With  hardly  less  devotion,  if  not  more, 

Grandeur  of  sacrifice,  determined  will, 

Valiant  encounter,  worthy  to  prevail, 

If  only  righteousness  had  led  the  way, 

And    Heaven   could   breathe   a  blessing;    but  to 

plunge 

In  deeper  ruin,  if  the  wrong  direct : 
Again  to  rise,  in  chastened  poverty, 
In  purer  wisdom,  clothed  with  larger  power, 
To  run  an  ampler  race  of  liberty, 
And  build  their  fortune  on  a  firmer  stone. 

Now  let  the  glory  and  the  wealth  of  praise 
Be  to  Jehovah,  who  the  steady  helm 
Held  in  a  providence  which  wisely  gave 
Victory  or  defeat,  the  envious  powers 
Bridled  with  futile  hopes,  the  smiling  foe 
Snared  in  his  own  devices,  and  inspired, 
From  frozen  zone  to  torrid  continent, 
In  potent  thrones  and  in  the  million  breasts, 
Unfaltering  sympathy.     He  touched  the  purse, 
And  sumless  treasure  flowed ;  the  patriot  heart, 
And  states  marched  on  in  armies ;  seats  of  rule, 


156  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

And  counsel,  by  disaster  wise,  and  slow 

To  see,  but  seeing,  took  the  mind,  and  wrought 

With  'broken  fetters,  freedom's  franchisement, 

The  righteous  will  of  Heaven.     And  wondrously 

The  elements  of  Nature  heard  their  Lord. 

Helped  in  the  grand  design,  and  came  and  went 

With  such  a  niceness  of  occasion,  such 

Adjustment  to  the  need,  the  dullest  eye 

Could  see  his  purpose  in  the  little  craft 

That  smote  the  monster  terror  in  its  pride 

So  opportunely  ;  in  the  timely  flood, 

The  ready  wind,  the  prodigality 

And  fatness  of  the  fields,  the  opulent  hills, 

The  oily  tribute  of  the  rocks,  the  growth 

Of  wealth  and  industry  and  peerless  power, 

The  ebb  and  flow  of  fortune,  and  in  all 

The  aim  and  subtle  energy  of  things 

Still  working  for  the  right.     He  qualified 

The  noble  sons  of  Counsel  and  Command, 

Commissioned  aptly  to  the  needy  time, 

Strong  links  of  lustre  in  the  mighty  chain 

That  bound  our  triumph  to  his  purposes  ; 

A  list  to  bend  the  page  of  history, 

And  well  oppress  the  weary  wing  of  fame : 

Andrew,  the  governor,  Morton,  Buckingham, 

Wise  to  foresee,  and  prompt  to  execute ; 


THE   COURT   OF  THE    NATION.  157 

The  slave's  bold  champion,  Sumner,  resolute 
To  smite  the  arrogance  of  desperate  power, 
And  lift  the  lowly  in  his  eloquence, 
Still  whitening  honor  in  its  swarthy  use  ; 
Wilson,  who  wore  the  glory  of  the  heart 
Above  the  laurel  on  his  humble  brow ; 
Seward,  heroic  on  his  paper  field, 
Holding  reluctant  nations  with  his  pen, 
And  conquering  by  a  wise  diplomacy ; 
Stanton,  prolific  as  a  second  Mars 
Incessant  forces  to  the  field  to  pour, 
Himself  a  will  in  torrent  ;  Chase,  who  filled 
The  fiscal  fountains  to  the  brim,  and  lined 
The  mighty  pocket  with  his  green  and  gold ; 
Garfield,  who  nobly  left  the  studious  halls 
To  mingle  in  the  martial  element, 
Recalled  to  lead  the  battles  of  debate, 
And  shape  the  seething  forces,  yet  to  mount 
The  highest  seat,  and  by  untimely  fate, 
So  brave  and  cheerful,  to  entrance  the  world 
With  an  admiring  love  and  reverence. 
He  gave  the  gallant  shipmen,  —  Farragut, 
Driving  through  iron  walls  his  wooden  wedge, 
Lashed  in  the  smoky  shrouds  ;  the  sturdy  Foote, 
So  brave  his  deck  to  canopy  with  prayer ; 
The  gallant  Worden,  from  his  massy  den 


158  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Belching  terrific  thunders ;  and  Dupont, 
His  fiery  circles  wheeling  on  the  foe  ; 
And  Winslow,  sinking  the  piratic  shame : 
The  soldiers,  fit  to  fill  the  martial  posts, — 
Anderson,  clinging  to  the  crumbling  fort 
In  fearless  passion  of  fidelity  ; 
Lyon,  too  early  fallen  in  his  prime ; 
Macpherson,  gathered  in  his  fresh  renown, 
Before  the  bright  predictions  wreathed  his  brow; 
Howard,  the  soldier  of  a  higher  sword, 
Reserved  to  face  a  deadlier  obloquy  ; 
Thomas,  who  wet  his  weapon  with  his  tears, 
That  it  must  be,  and  sunk  the  love  of  kin 
In  higher  love  of  country  ;   Sheridan, 
The  thunderbolt  of  battle,  like  a  troop 
Upon  his  single  charger ;  Sherman,  bold 
To  cleave  the  struggling  monster  to  the  sea, 
And  only  failing  of  the  highest  plume  ; 
Grant,  on  whose  laurel  fortune  never  frowned, 
Whose  tide  of  triumph  never  took  an  ebb, 
Whose  star  was  constant  in  unclouded  skies, 
With  easy  rank  the  foremost,  in  himself 
The  ample  counsel  of  his  purposes, 
Tenacious  as  a  tempest,  still  as  strength, 
Ready  with  cheerful  praise  magnanimous, 
Modest  in  claim,  in  seats  imperial  safe, 


THE   COURT    OF    THE    NATION.  1 59 

Warfare  his  duty,  and  his  temper  peace  ; 
And,  over  all,  the  peerless  President, 
Of  gentle  sympathy,  of  pleasant  cheer 
For  others  while  the  burden  bent  his  soul, 
Of  ponderous  caution,  wisely  studious 
To  seize  the  happy  moment,  with  a  faith 
In  stout  assurance  never  wavering, 
Of  lustrous  honesty,  of  marvelous  skill 
To  knit  divergences  and  ravel  out 
The  tangles  of  the  time,  of  courage  grand 
To  dare  the  justice  of  the  mighty  word, 
That  freed  the  slave,  and  freed  our  victory ; 
Sealing  the  triumph  with  his  martyr  blood 
Amid  the  tearful  homage  of  the  world. 

So  He,  who  rolls  the  spheres,  his  chariot  rolled 
Athwart  the  land,  and  gathered  to  its  beam 
The  chosen  champions  of  his  providence: 
These,  and  a  multitude  full  worthy  name, 
And  countless  undistinguished,  like  the  stars, 
Not  on  the  flaming  forehead  of  the  night, 
That  yet,  from  unseen  depths,  their  influence  pour 
Into  the  wondrous  working  of  the  world. 
And  all  the  thousands  in  their  unknown  graves, 
By  battle,  fever,  prison,  laid  their  lives 
To  the  appointed  issue,  not  amiss, 


l6o  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Like  drops  that  dress  to  harvest  gloriously ; 

Till,  with  the  bloody  rain  of  judgment  spent, 

And  cleansing  uproar  of  the  elements, 

The  heavens  broke  brightly  in  the  beams  of  peace. 

And  as  the  sun,  at  noonday,  through  the  rifts 

In  the  dark  wrapping  of  his  stormy  veil, 

Bursts  forth  in  sudden  splendor,  and  the  earth 

Grandly  pavilions  with  his  royal  light, 

So  flamed  the  Pilgrim  promise,  from  eclipse, 

In  clear  prediction  of  a  nobler  day ; 

And,  far  above  the  dying  tempest,  shone 

The  flag  of  freedom  in  the  foremost  sky, 

With  ampler  aegis  and  a  purer  fold, 

Worthy  to  wave  above  the  holy  dome 

Of  souls  enfranchised,  and  to  liberty 

Redeemed  forever  by  the  precious  blood, 

The  temple  open  to  a  world  enslaved. 

This  is  thy  country  ;  thine,  whoever  will, 
Out  of  whatever  womb  of  parentage, 
Rest  in  the  bosom  of  her  ample  care  ; 
Thine,  for  the  truth  and  God.     With  ready  zeal 
Her  noble  burdens  bear,  yet  mere  and  more 
\Varming  thy  heart  with  patriotic  fire. 
Wear  her  great  honors  meekly,  and  to  all 
Free  the  advantage  thou  dost  freely  boast. 


THE   COURT   OF    THE    NATION.  l6l 

Her  destiny  advance  ;  her  purpose  fill 

With  Heaven's  great  meaning,  as  a  land  of  law, 

Of  freedom,  brotherhood  and  righteousness, 

Of  peace  and  mercy.     With  fraternal  bands 

Anew,  in  firmer  union,  nevermore 

To  frown  with  lurid  face  of  enmity, 

The  shattered  members  bind.    The  hideous  wounds, 

Black,  angry,  rankling  from  the  desperate  strife, 

Heal  with  the  balm  of  kindness.     Let  the  hand 

That  hurled  the  thunder,  filled  the  sulphurous  lips 

With  forceful  arguments  of  government, 

And  swept  with  fury  of  embattled  storm, 

Rebuild  the  ruin,  and  replant  the  vine. 

Kiss  the  repentant,  and  receive  again 

To  the  warm  place  of  favor.     Raise  the  foe 

To  old  advantage,  with  an  eager  joy 

Not  to  remember,  if  the  crimson  hand 

Will  show  its  whiteness  ;  with  a  swift  return 

Of  privilege  to  returning  loyalty, 

That  will  do  'justice  ;  yea,  with  honor,  trust, 

Room  in  the  noble  niche  of  history, 

If  they,  misled,  their  wanton  folly  own, 

And  cleanse  rebellion  in  their  righteousness. 

But  let  the  haughty  leaders  of  the  wrong, 

Petting  their  crime  in  stubborn  petulance, 

Impenitent,  be  covered  with  their  shame, 


1 62  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

And  feel  the  smart  of  the  avenging  rod, 
In  growing  infamy  as  the  years  roll  on. 
It  is  the  way  of  mercy  to  forget; 
Of  justice,  to  remember  :  and  the  books 
Groan  with  eternal  record.     Let  the  dark 
Race  of  the  sun,  in  luxury  of  hope, 
And  sovereign  feeling  of  possession,  still 
Enjoy  their  heavens,  and  in  a  righteous  sky 
See  their  long  midnight  turn  to  glorious  day; 
Full  clad  in  civil  symbols,  every  tongue 
Taught  in  ennobling  knowledge,  manly  hands 
Armed  with  the  potent  suffrage,  bravely  won 
On  many  a  field  heroic.     Otherwise 
How  can  the  common  safety  surely  rest, 
But  in  the  common  hand  enfranchised,  taught 
In  the  intelligence  of  duty,  and  left 
To  its  unfrightened  freedom  ?     Wide  to  all 
Open  the  welcome  portals  of  thy  good, 
And  to  thy  sunshine  gather  every  wreck, 
The  tempest-tost  and  weary,  and  amend 
With  thy  unstinted  blessing.     So  be  just, 
Thy  bounty  with  a  generous  fervor  use, 
And  from  the  heavens  of  bounty  will  descend, 
Like  showers  of  spring,  enriching  benefit, 
Tributes  of  favor,  and  benignant  stores 
Above  the  noted  happiness  of  time. 


THE   COURT   OF    THE   NATION.  163 

Now  let  the  sword  rust,  to  the  peaceful  plow 
Retunrthe  war-horse;  labor  win  the  bays, 
And  the  triumphant  reaper  sweep  the  field. 
Let  industry  outring  the  tread  of  Mars, 
And  useful  science  ply  her  enginery. 
So  by  the  arts  of  peace  thy  greatness  build. 
See,  in  the  lurid  glare  along  the  past, 
And  scarcely  vanished  from  the  eastern  sky, 
How  the  rank  glory  of  the  martial  years 
May  burn  to  ashes  in  one  fiery  clay, 
And  shame  run  riot  over  arms  and  thrones  ! 
Napoleon  is  the  meteor  of  an  hour, 
And  nothing  quenches  like  ambitious  blood. 
Thrice  is  triumphant  wrong  a  sham  of  fame. 
Let  mercy  rather,  truth,  heroic  right, 
Impartial  justice,  learning,  liberty, 
Thy  ramparts  be,  thy  weapons,  thy  defence, 
And  peace  will  reign  in  long  prosperity. 
Bear  witness  may  the  second  hundreth  year, 
With  each  successive  in  the  mighty  roll, 
And  welcome  all  the  nations  with  display 
Of  thrice  more  bounteous,  wonderful  advance 
Of  a  rich  century,  with  the  olive  crowned. 

Now,  from  the  watch-tower  of  thy  privilege, 
O  favored  denizen  !   with  wide  survey 


THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Fitly  thy  life  inspire.     See  how  the  land, 
With  what  a  broad  and  rich  magnificence, 
Pleads  for  a  noble  spirit !     The  lofty  hills 
Rival  the  clouds,  the  vales  the  vaulted  sky, 
The  plains  the  boundless  main.     The  rocky  wombs 
Teem  v\ith  a  double  store  of  orient  wealth, 
To  glut  the  greedy  coffers  of  the  world, 
-And  feed  the  needy  lights  of  every  land 
With  their  unfailing  fatness.     Fields  afar, 
Like  oceans,  wave  with  harvests,  to  refresh 
The  hunger  of  the  nations.     Rivers  flow, 
Like  seas,  the  paths  of  empire,  arteries 
Of  opulent  life,  coursing  a  continent, 
Gorged  with  the  flood  of  traffic.     Forests  wave 
Their  leafy  banners  of  a  thousand  years 
In  ranks  colossal,  with  a  tempering  shield 
To  shelter  swarming  millions.     Massy  beds 
Of  ebon  possibility  of  fire, 
Out  of  the  vast  carbonic  elements 
Through  countless  years  compacted,  like  a  sun 
Pent  in  the  prisoning  rocks,  exhaustless  store 
Of  comfort,  power,  dominion,  ready  lie 
To  feed  the  hungry  furnaces  of  toil, 
And  warm  the  world.     And  Vulcan,  close  at  hand, 
With  faculty  gigantic,  like  a  god, 
And  hammers"  huge,  and  smutty  treasures,  far 


THE  COURT  OF  THE  NATION.          165 

Richer  than  all  the  metals  of  delight 
That  fill  the  earth  with  glitter,  gathered  up 
Out  of  the  molten  fury  of  the  globe, 
Sweats  in  Plutonian  smithies  to  advance 
The  golden  age  of  iron  ;  whose  stalwart  arm 
Shall  wield  the  sceptre  of  the  industries, 
That  yet  will  all  the  nations  bind  and  bless 
In  peace,  and  happy  commerce  of  content. 

In  such  a  heritage  thy  heart  enlarge 
To  its  majestic  rule :    so  grand  thy  deeds, 
So  fair  thy  justice,  large  thy  liberty, 
Generous  thy  welcome,  thy  designs  of  good 
So  ample  and  benign.     The  noble  GOU! 
Nurture  in  all  the  body's  amplitude, 
And  build  into  the  grandeur  of  its  home. 
What  realm  so  rich,  it  can  afford  to  be 
Cursed  with  a  pauper  spirit  ?     What  domain 
So  vast  and  favored,  it  may  not  be  dwarfed 
With  pinched  and    puny  aims  ?     The    soul   made 

great,  — 

This,  this  the  meanest  land  will  glorify, 
The  rocks  enrich,  the  snows  with  honor  crown, 
And  from  the  hills  a  manly  harvest  reap. 

The  force  of  truth,  the  press  of  Providence, 


i66 


THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

The  discipline  of  duty,  these  the  soul, 
Like  ductile  gold,  shape  to  its  nobleness. 
Then  help  the  heavens  a  worthy  race  to  form. 
From  every  hill,  free  as  its  native  springs, 
Let  goodly  rills  of  learning  plenteously 
Flow  for  the  needy  millions.     Every  mind 
A  realm  regard,  to  conquer,  and  invest 
With  a  fine  sceptre  of  corrected  will, 
To  rule  the  coming  ruler.     Precious  seed 
In  broadcast  scatter,  which  shall  ripen  men 
In  harvests  of  all  gracious  excellence. 
Weeds  are  ignoble ;  thorns  of  barrenness 
Obstruct  the  living  march.     The  ignorant  soul 
Is  like  a  desert,  where  the  Arab  lusts 
In  untamed  passion  riot.     Wisdom  grows 
Only  where  her  choice  elements  are  found, 
Compounded  freely  of  the  earth  and  sky ; 
And  cultivation,  wrought  with  heavenly  truth, 
Teems  with  a  mighty  manhood  :  as  in  fields, 
Where  most  the  fertilizing  forces  yield 
Their  potence,  and  munificently  fall 
The  cloud  and  sun,  the  richest  harvests  wave. 
For,  without  God,  knowledge  is  ignorance, 
And  civilization  gilded  barbarism. 

Then  let  the  Scriptures,  pregnant  with  the  seed 


THE   COURT   OF    THE    NATION.  167 

And  fruitful  elements  of  all  benefit, 

Ply  their  celestial  virtue  more  and  more 

In  every  human  sphere  :  in  every  home, 

To  curb  the  passions,  knit  a  finer  grace, 

The  gentle  breath  embalm  with  sweet  content, 

And  garland  with  the  shining  wreath  of  hope 

The  cradle  and  the  grave  ;  in  every  school, 

The  light  to  enlighten,  trim  its  lurid  lamp 

With  a  correcting  beam,  showing  a  way, 

Amid  the  stormy  wrangles  of  the  earth, 

Clear  to  the  throne  of  truth  ;  in  every  mart, 

The  code  of  gold,  in  honesty  to  shape 

The  throbbing  traffic  ;  where  great  justice  sits, 

To  weigh  the  niceness  of  impartial  law, 

Or  legislation  labors,  patiently, 

Out  of  the  rubbish  of  our  selfishness, 

To  rear  aright  the  frame  of  equity. 

What  other  angel  of  the  spheres  will  come 

With  more  substantial  blessing,  more  applause 

And  plentitude  of  glorious  benefit, 

Than  white-winged  wisdom  from  the  throne  supreme? 

\Vhat !  thrust  Jehovah  from  the  needy  soul, 

Turn  a  deaf  ear  to  his  inspiring  voice, 

And  listen  to  the  drivelings  of  men  ? 

Scorn  the  full  flowing  bosom  of  the  sky, 

And  draw  our  nurture  from  the  paps  of  fools  ? 


T68  THE    TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Spurn  the  delicious,  wholesome,  heavenly  air, 
And  snuff  the  sulphurous  effluence  of  hell  ? 
Shut  the  eternal  visions,  and  the  hopes 
Of  earth,  in  all  their  yearning  interest, 
Narrow  within  the  petty  inch  of  time, 
And  blast  that  inch  with  canker  of  unrest  ? 
Or  leave  to  fancy  the  celestial  way, 
Our  immortality  and  glorious  hope 
To  a  rude  reason  in  its  impotence  ? 

No  !  rather  let  the  Word,  the  holy  source 
Of  comfort,  wisdom,  life,  intelligence, 
In  every  sphere  its  tidings  sweetly  tell, 
In  every  field  its  trumpet  boldly  sound 
To  urge  the  enterprises  of  the  just; 
Not  hustled  by  a  grim  intolerance 
To  trail  its  glories  to  the  whims  of  men, 
And  bow  its  stately  presence  at  the  beck 
Of  bitter  hate,  or  ribald  blasphemy. 
Hell  would  destroy  this  bulwark,  and  the  soul 
Leave  stark  and  naked  to  her  enemies. 
But  grasp  more  firmly,  as  more  fiercely  fall 
The  blows  of  rough  and  surly  enmity 
Upon  the  golden  shield ;  and,  with  the  glow 
Of  veteran  valor  for  his  native,  flag, 
Triumphant  from  a  hundred  furious  fields, 


THE    COURT    OF    THE    NATION.  169 

Cling  to*  the  ensign  from  the  walls  of  heaven, 

That  still  its  glory  waves  afar,  im dimmed 

After  the  siege  of  thrice  a  thousand  years. 

Yield  not  an  inch  to  infidelity, 

Nor  give  to  scoffing  bigotry  its  way, 

The  heathen  fountains  open,  the  divine 

Closed,  lest  perchance  sectarian  streams  may  flow, 

And  tincture  Christ-like  in  a  Christian  land. 

The  bigot's  triumph,  of  the  blackest  art, 

Is  when  he  lurks  in  swamp  and  deadly  fen, 

Shoots  at  the  noblest  with  a  savage  aim, 

And  draws  infernal  plaudit  from  the  pit. 

Marshal  the  prayer,  the  ballot,  heaven  and  earth  ; 

And  with  a  firm  and  sovereign  instinct  dare 

Thy  heritage  maintain.     The  Bible  shut 

Is  heaven  restrained  from  dew,  the  heart  from  hope, 

The  land  from  benediction.      It  is  crime, 

Hate  to  the  truth,  rebellion  to  the  Throne, 

Rank  cruelty  to  man.      It  is  to  toss 

Upon  a  sea  of  foam  the  shattered  State, 

Hang  on  the  peaceful  sky  the  thunderous  pall, 

And  drape  the  day  with  darkness ;  yea,  to  turn 

Backward  the  stream  of  progress  to  its  spring 

Among  the  heathen  horrors,  and  arrest 

The  axis  of  the  world.     Then  see  the  ships 

Idly  at  anchor  rot,  dearth  fret  the  fields, 


THE   TEMPLE    REBUIT. 

Bees  lock  their  hives,  barbaric  years  return 

To  rout  the  ages,  energy  relapse 

To  savage  indolence,  destruction  mass 

Her  troop  of  terrors,  war  with  torrent  curse 

Run  riot,  and  the  hapless  land  again 

Before  her  idols  welter,  grim  with  blood, 

Filthy,  forlorn,  disconsolate,  accursed. 

Nay,  rather  give  the  glorious  wisdom  way, 

Like  the  clear  march  of  morning,  not  a  cloud 

Holding  its  envious  curtain  to  the  sun, 

Not  one  ray  dimmed.     Bend  the  full  bow  of  God, 

Unloose  the  shining  quiver,  that  may  fly 

Forth,  in  the  victory  of  abounding  light, 

Bright  arrows ;  till  submissive  souls  of  men, 

Enlightened,  with  immortal  graces  glow, 

Industry,  prudence,  virtue,  self-control, 

A  noble  counsel  for  the  current  time, 

And  nobler  knowledge  of  eternal  good. 

With  its  pervasive  lift  of  godliness 

Correct  the  groveling  age.     The  foreign  eye, 

With  unbelief  and  superstition  bleared, 

Heal  in  its  lustre.     Every  human  right 

Enrich,  commission  to  full  privilege 

By  its  free  lessons.     Let  the  ballot  gleam 

With  its  pure  glory,  and  the  sovereign  rule 

Mould  to  its  standard,  sceptre  with  its  rod ; 


THE    COURT    OF    THE   NATION.  171 

A  government,  whose  seat  is  solidly, 

As  hills  of  God,  on  deep  foundations  built 

Beyond  the  ruin  of  corroding  time. 

The  simple  Word,  its  own  interpreter, 
And  massive  weapon  of  its  own  defence, 
Wielded  of  heaven,  can  make  its  single  way, 
And  mightily  the  surly  darkness  bind 
Fast  at  its  feet.     But  as  the  Solar  King 
Sweeps  with  his  shining  squadron  of  the  sky, 
Not  to  augment,  but  to  reflect  his  power, 
So  add  a  troop  of  fair  attendant  orbs 
Of  kindred  light  and  lustre, —  holy  hearts 
Instructed  by  the  ages,  tongues  enriched 
With  commerce  of  immortals,  sturdy  tomes, 
Like  giants,  to  repel  the  airy  hordes 
That  hope  with  paper  fume  to  carry  heaven, 
And  scale  with  enginery  of  rude  conceit 
The  mighty  empyrean.     Nor  despise 
The  things  of  paltry  presence,  which  oft  gain 
Superior  vantage  to  the  most  renowned  ; 
The  million  fragile  leaflets  of  the  truth, 
Like  flakes  of  spring,  with  soft  fertility 
To  melt  and  trickle  into  thirsty  hearts. 
And  as  the  trumpet  has  its  tender  note, 
The  thunder  cadence  of  a  gentler  mood, 


172  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

So  every  sphere  of  sorrow,  toil,  mischance, 
Fill  with  the  dulcet  echoes  of  the  Word, 
That  with  a  thousand  accents  may  divide 
The  strength  and  music  of  the  heavenly  tone, 
And  sweetly  to  the  hut  and  mansion  speak. 

And  let  the  grateful  fruit  of  enterprise, 
So  prospered  in  the  light,  richly  disburse, 
And,  from  the  truth,  the  truth  with  wings  provide, 
To  ply  the  ample  air,  and  like  the  stars 
Sweep  tireless  on.     The  enriching  potency, 
As  clouds  suck  back  the  waters  which  they  pour, 
Itself  should  be  enriched.     Wherever  sounds 
The  wailing  note  of  need,  in  ready  troop 
The  consecrated  angels  of  the  purse 
Send    forth    on   bounteous   wings.     The  generous 

prayer, 

So  rich  in  wishes,  and  so  fondly  full 
Of  heavenly  aid,  another's  sacrifice, 
Thyself  fulfil.     The  rising  walls  assist, 
And  give  a  bow  or  archer.     Help  the  crude 
Fledglings  of  learning  in  their  lofty  aim 
To  qualify,  and  with  a  freighted  breath 
Spread  the  glad  news  of  glory.     Where  the  sun 
Burns  hottest,  where  the  icy  sceptre  holds 
Relentless  empire,  where  sweet  islands  float, 


THE   COURT   OF   THE   NATION.  173 

On  every  shore,  thy  treasure  freely  plant, 
And  sow  the  earth  for  heaven.     The  noble  lives 
Of  missionary  faith  and  sacrifice, 
With  holy  nations  teeming  in  their  toil, 
The  clearest  illustration  of  the  dear 
Descent  and  mission  of  the  grace  Divine, 
Help,  and  thyself  ennoble.     Nor  the  less, 
With  heart  enlarged  by  duty  round  the  globe, 
But  more,  the  toilers  in  the  native  fields, 
In  want,  in  hardship,  in  obscurity, 
Richly  remember ;  burdened  with  a  cross 
More  bitter  in  its  suffering,  oftentimes, 
Than  any  on  the  darkest  shore  of  sin ; 
More  foreign,  since  at  home,  as  distant  wants, 
Like  mountains  gleaming  in  the  blue  afar, 
Often  the  eye  engage,  when  nearer  needs, 
Because  so  near,  we  in  our  good  forget, 
Thinking,  forsooth,  who  dwell  within  our  gates, 
When  round  us  surges  blessing  like  the  sea, 
Without  our  aid,  must  in  the  blessing  share. 
Nay,  all  the  more,  we  at  the  citadel, 
In  battlemented  safety,  richly  filled, 
Should  ever,  with  a  wealth  of  sympathy, 
With  ceaseless  sacrifice  of  purse  and  prayer, 
Sustain  the  comrades  at  the  rugged  edge, 
Circled  with  battle,  day  nor  night  at  rest; 


174  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Heroic  as  the  noblest  that  renown 

Ever  applauded  at  the  cannon's  mouth; 

The  banner  waving  in  determined  march 

To  southern  sun  and  western,  well-resolved 

The  gates  of  hell  to  humble,  or  to  die ; 

Relaying  in  the  wilderness  the  deep 

Foundations  of  the  fathers,  to  the  line 

Hung  from  the  heavens,  and  those  majestic  states 

Nursing  in  their  gigantic  infancy, 

Till,  clad  in  power,  and  saved  to  righteousness, 

They  take  the  van  of  empire.     Richly  cast 

On  those  vast  waters,  will  thy  seed  return 

In  after  years  a  plenty,  where  the  earth, 

As  from  an  infinite  granery,  may  feed, 

And  fill  the  famine  of  its  needy  life. 

But  what  avails,  if  from  the  forces  bright 
Drop  holy  time  ?     How  shall  the  summer  crown 
Her  brow  with  harvest,  if  from  heaven's  high  arch 
Fail  the  full  noon  ?     In  the  recurrent  seven 
Let  one  day  be  supreme,  sacred  and  sure, 
For  love,  for  rest,  for  worship.     Hold  it  fast 
Against  the  hatred  of  the  holy  Name, 
The  ribald  scoff,  the  vandal  unbelief, 
The  greed  of  pelf,  the  lust  of  luxury, 
The  reeky  influence  of  the  elder  world, 


THE   COURT    OF    THE    NATION.  175 

That  to  the  fair  fruit  stretches  eagerly 
On  thy  grand  olive,  yet  with  custom  keen 
Cuts  at  the  deepest  roots.     Why  not,  if  God 
Rested  ?  and  if,  on  that  sweet  morning,  Christ 
Over  the  grave  rose  victor  to  the  full 
Supremacy  of  mercy,  why  not  thou 
To  work  of  love  and  rest  of  worship  rise, 
And  in  that  respite  fold  thy  weary  cares  ? 
Yes,  every  day  be  holy,  like  the  place 
Before  the  altar ;  this,  before  the  ark, 
Where  the  bright  cherubim  adoring  bend, 
In  glory  covered  with  the  Cloud  of  God. 
The  holiest  holds  the  sceptre,  rules  the  rest, 
And  with  it  falls  the  temple.     Once  the  week 
Rob  of  its  hallowed  crown,  soon  and  as  far 
Is  God  dethroned.     The  holy  symbol  lost, 
The  Presence  is  forgotten.     Break  the  day, 
And  thou  art  ready  for  all  sacrilege, 
With  nothing  sacred  without  sacred  time. 
The  Sabbath  weakening  is  decay  begun ; 
The  Sabbath  lost  is  Satan's  holiday. 

Let  mountains  sooner  in  a  molten  flood 
Pour  to  the  ocean,  and  the  fertile  fields 
Burn  into  desert,  and  the  rivers  dry 
Their  commerce  to  the  -sand,  and  every  keel 


176  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Its  burden  bury  in  a  foaming  grave, 
And  fiery  giants  hew  the  forests  down, 
And  whirlwinds  wrestle  with  the  villages, 
And  pestilence  with  stealthy  havoc  creep 
In  decimation  of  the  frightened  homes,  — 
Sooner  than  fail  the  day  of  dear  repose, 
Nearness  of  Heaven,  culture  of  godliness, 
In  the  tempestuous  surges  of  the  time, 
And  perish,  to  the  peril  of  the  State, 
The  fall  of  freedom,  ruin  of  the  soul 
Wrecked  in  eternal  storm.     Beware  the  doom ! 
Hear,  on  the  eastern  air,  in  fearful  roll 
Above  the  ruins  of  the  sacred  time, 
The  thunders  of  avenging  penalty, 
And  dread  the  hovering  terrors.     Land  to  land 
Quakes  with  the  tread  of  vengeance,  marching  on 
To  vindicate  the  trampled  day  of  peace, 
Or  resting  only  to  recover  force 
For  fiercer  onset  of  the  bloody  storm. 
Thy  safety  measure  by  the  righteous  rule 
Of  duty,  measured  by  the  heavenly  dues 
Of  worship,  service,  lowly  gratitude. 
Who  can  the  whirlwind  sow,  and  softly  reap 
'       Zephers  in  harvest  ?     Can  a  blessing  crown 
The  rude,  despoiling  hand  of  sacrilege, 
Crowding  its  lusts  into  the  holy  place, 


THE   COURT   OF   THE    NATION.  177 

High  Heaven  forgotten,  and  the  spoil  of  God 
Dragged  at  the  dusty  chariot  of  the  world  ? 

Ring  then,  O  Sabbath  bells  !  and  ever  ring, 
Through  the  calm  air  and  sober  thoughts  of  men, 
This  joyous  peal  :  "  Welcome,  delightful  day  ! 
Earnest  of  days  celestial,  dedicate 
To  truth,  to  worship,  to  immortal  good. 
O  joyful  rest !     O  toil  of  tireless  love, 
Refreshment  of  the  earthly  weariness  ! 
O  sacred  stillness,  calm  from  labor's  din  ! 
O  glorious  courts  !  above  all  palaces 
Of  pride  and  pomp  and  flattering  minstrelsy, 
However  roofed  and  walled  with  lowliness, 
Where  loving  courtiers  meet  the  King  of  kings 
In  dear  devotion,  and  supremely  lay 
Their  tribute  at  his  feet.     The  gracious  Power 
Gently  descends,  enlightens,  comforts,  thrills 
With  the  deep  bliss  of  pardon.     All  the  air 
Is  full  of  angels ;  music's  happy  voice 
Breathes  in  the  rich  oblation.     Now  the  Lord 
Walks  in  his  aisles  of  glory,  and  the  word, 
Tutored  in  all  devices  of  delight, 
Speaks  endless  benediction.      Happy  land  ! 
That  hears  the  heavenly  summons,  and,  arrayed 
In  festive  robes  of  rest  from  weary  strife, 


I78  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Fills  the  fair  temples  with  her  worshippers ; 

Hill,  valley,  forest  echoing  with  the  songs 

And  lofty  pleasures  of  the  hallowed  hour, 

While  heaven  hangs  hovering  with  benignant  store, 

And  on  the  grateful  incense  God  descends. 

Oh !  give  to  earthly  care  one  day  of  calm, 

One  day  of  worship  to  thy  weary  soul, 

And  all  the  seven  will  so  be  sanctified ; 

Thy  treasures  true,  thy  work  sublimely  wrought, 

Around  thee  all  the  favoring  forces  camped, 

And,  just  before,  eternal  holiday." 

How  sad  the  land  without  a  government 
Reflecting  splendor  from  the  throne  supreme  ; 
Whose  turbid  influence,  an  immoral  Nile, 
Floods  the  fair  fields  with  foul  fertility  ! 
Purge,  then,  the  springs  of  power ;  and,  in  the  sea 
Ambition  seeks,  but  only  Worth  should  win, 
Bid  Merit  sacrifice  himself,  and  show 
How  glorious  is  the  sufferance  of  wrong, 
The  press  of  care,  the  angry  blasts  of  blame 
On  the  uncovered  head  of  dignity,^ 
Devout  to  duty ;  and,  as  on  a  mount, 
With  lustrous  name  illumine  all  the  land, 
Till  the  remotest  bosom,  like  a  glass, 
Reflect  the  image  of  his  nobleness. 


THE    COURT    OF    THE    NATION.  179 

Why  lift  aloft  the  baseling  ?  give  the  sword 

To  unanointed  hands  ?  garland  the  brow 

Which  virtue  never  crowned  ?     Ah  !  devils  give 

Poor  deity  for  worship.     It  is  death 

To  put  corruption  in  the  potent  place ; 

As  in  the  brain  a  sliver  will  destroy, 

Which  scarce  the  heel  would  harm.     Full  easily 

From  lofty  fountains  flows  infection  down. 

The  upas  with  advantage  from  the  height 

Breathes  far  its  fatal  odors.     From  a  tower 

The  treacherous  light  is  night  with  emphasis. 

The  reeling  pilot  will  imperil  more, 

And  quickly  find  familiar  jeopardy. 

So  the  untamed  Ambition,  with  the  rein, 

Albeit  an  angel  fallen  in  his  pride, 

Will  rouse  a  tempest  which  he  cannot  rule, 

And,  like  a  comet  with  disheveled  locks, 

Scatter  wild  havoc  from  his  wheels  of  war. 

Not  thy  misfortune,  land  of  liberty  ! 
But  crime,  if  other  than  the  noblest  rule. 
The  regal  loins  may  but  beget  a  curse, 
And  turn  a  monster  on  the  helpless  State. 
The  suffrage  is  the  potent  privilege 
Of  freedom,  and  with  blessings  richly  fraught, 
If  in  a  virtuous  use ;  with  curses  dire, 


THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 


If  crafty  lust  the  mighty  bridle  seize, 
And  madly  drive  the  easy  multitude. 
Cleanse  thy  vote  well,  and  use  it.     Let  it  bear 
On  its  white  pinions  still  the  purest  hand, 
The  ripest  wisdom,  and  the  manliest  mind, 
Up  to  the  highest  stations  of  the  State, 
The  place  ennobling  with  a  noble  name  : 
Virtue  thy  senator,  inflexible 
As  mountain  to  the  whirlwind  ;  Justice,  clad 
In  ermine  of  bright  probity,  thy  judge  ; 
Thy  legislator,  Right,  with  even  shears 
Shaping  the  impartial  law  ;  thy  counsellor, 
Wisdom,  all  consonant  to  the  voice  divine  ; 
Integrity,  thy  fiscal  officer, 
That  will  not,  by  the  whittle  of  a  clime, 
Shave  the  robustness  of  the  promised  due  ; 
Thy  royal  lawyer,  Love,  skilled  to  resolve 
The  tangled  problems  of  the  common  good  ; 
And,  over  all,  in  unconditioned  power, 
Christ,  the  sole  monarch  of  right  liberty. 
And  so  the  true  democracy  confirm, 
The  rule  of  Heaven,  the  theocratic  sway 
Of  God  in  man,  his  kingdom  in  thy  blood, 
Its  substance  mingling  with  the  nation's  life, 
Till  all  become  immortal  as  itself. 


THE   COURT   OF   THE   NATION,  l8l 

See,  in  the  gloomy  mirror  of  the  past, 
The  ages  pictured  in  mirage  of  death, 
Strewn  with  the  wrath  and  ruin,  stately  wrecks 
From  storms  of  judgment  on  their  guiltiness ! 
Thy  fated  image,  unless  thou  betimes, 
By  the  wise  pilotage  of  righteousness, 
Shun  the  dark  rocks  where  fell  the  fleets  of  time. 
The  earthquake,  in  his  fiery  caverns  pent, 
Crunches  the  bars  of  his  imprisonment, 
To  topple  cities  in  his  furious  play. 
Impatient  lightnings  fret.     The  storm  of  war 
Hangs  in  black  masses,  ready  to  engulf 
The  godless  nation  in  a  sea  of  blood  ; 
And,  on  the  air,  the  eager  pestilence 
Awaits  his  hideous  banquet.     Oh,  beware  ! 
Why  court  the  perils  of  unrighteousness, 
And  arm  the  heavens  against  thee  ?      Why  invoke 
The  furious  wages  of  the  trade  of  wrong  : 
Fire,  seas  of  slaughter,  discord  madly  loose, 
Men  into  monsters,  women  into  fiends 
Turned  in  their  vile  and  shameless  infamy, 
The  brazen  harlot  crowned,  the  boasted  name 
Rent  with  exploded  glory,  flesh  consumed 
With  horror  of  its  pleasures,  faces  crisped 
With  burning  passion,  bosoms  black  as  night 
With  famine  of  their  joy,  the  fruitful  fields 


1 82  THE    TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Trampled  to  barrenness,  the  foreign  hoof 
Upon  the  stately  neck,  historic  domes, 
Grand  decorations,  monuments  of  pride, 
Shattered  in  ruin,  and  thy  memory 
Hung  in  grim  warning  on  the  walls  of  time  ? 

Defend  thee  rather  from  a  fate  so  dread, 
My  country!  with  the  shield  of  righteousness, 
And  rally  boldly  to  the  throne  of  God. 
In  holy  justice  harnessed,  high  advance 
The  bright  eternal  banner,  and  afar, 
To  all  the  circuit  of  conspiring  wrongs, 
Fling  the  full  challenge  of  intrepid  war. 
Thy  scutcheon  cover  with  the  blazonry 
Of  human  interests  and  the  common  weal. 
Keep  holy  time  complete.     Devoutly  hold 
The  truth,  the  temple,  and  the  name  of  God. 
By  gratitude  and  fair  humility 
Make  greater  still  tliy  greatness.     More  and  more, 
From  thy  abounding  riches,  copiously 
Pour  to  the  needy  nations.     Legislate 
For  justice,  virtue,  equity  of  good, 
The  rule  of  love,  the  sway  of  liberty. 
Build  on  foundations,  for  the  ages  build, 
And  gird  thy  wisdom  with  the  word  divine. 
Break  every  fetter,  every  grevious  yoke 


THE   COURT   OF   THE   NATION.  183 

From  toil,  from  sorrow,  helpless  poverty, 
Or  grinding  in  the  bitter  mills  of  wrong. 
Fulfil  the  promise  of  the  Pilgrim  dawn, 
That  streaked  with  brighter  day  thy  early  east ; 
Thy  constitution  flaming  like^a  star 
Upon  the  night,  ablaze  with  righteousness, 
Of  highest  glory  to  the  throne  supreme, 
And  blessing  to  the  lowest.     Then,  above 
The  fear  and  deadly  peril,  wilt  thou  stand 
Firm  as  the  rooted  mountains,  and  extend 
By  stable  peace,  by  prosperous  enterprise, 
By  fellowship  of  friendly  interests, 
By  truth  more  free,  by  liberty  more  true, 
By  an  example  purged  of  every  stain, 
By  the  bright  features  of  a  virtue  still 
Distilling  beauty  and  a  healthful  life, 
Immortal  vigor  and  immortal  grace ; 
Expanding  with  the  years,  till  all  the  world 
One  with  thy  blessing  and  thy  name  become, 
One  law,  one  throne,  one  spirit,  one  renown. 
One  temple  of  one  worship  and  one  song, 
One  heavenly  realm,  one  kingdom  of  the  Lord. 


BOOK   VIII. 
THE     COURT     OF    THE    WORLD. 


The  temple  to  embrace  the  world.  Christian  patriotism  broad  as  the 
earth.  The  fearful  condition  of  the  heathen.  The  grandeur  of  missionary 
zeal  and  sacrifice.  The  same  spirit  and  devotion  always  needed,  always 
successful.  Encouragement  from  prophecy.  All  things  conspire  to  ad 
vance  the  final  triumph.  The  millennial  glory. 


And  now  the  rising  temple,  with  the  heart 
Expanding,  has  a  court  where  all  the  world 
May  gather  to  the  warm  embrace  of  love, 
Find  room  abundant,  entertainment  sweet, 
A  common  altar,  and  a  common  hope. 
And  as,  within  the  Holy  Edifice, 
In  glory  gleaming  on  the  sacred  mount, 
The  Gentiles  might  their  daily  service  bring, 
And  share  in  every  bounteous  privilege, 
Save  of  the  inner  circles,  so  should  all 
The  nations  share  our  bosom,  in  the  care 
And  warmth  of  loving  brotherhood,  except 
184 


THE    COURT   OF   THE    WORLD.  185 

The  inmost  sanctuary,  and  the  deep 
Recesses  of  the  dearest  tenderness. 

O  heart  of  holiness  !  expanding  thus, 
Thy  land  embrace  with  such  affection  fond 
As  dotes  upon  her  very  rills  and  stones, 
And  gilds  with  beauty  even  her  barrenness  ; 
Thy  land,  but  not  thine  only,  though  as  fair 
As  hills  of  Paradise.     The  Christ-like  love, 
Broader  and  deeper  than  the  law  of  blood, 
Takes  to  its  ample  heart  the  utmost  clime. 
The  saintly  patriotism  of  the  skies  * 

Makes  earth  thy  country,  man  thy  native  race, 
And  every  soul  thy  kindred.     Not  a  foot 
Treads  in  a  vale  so  low,  in  ways  so  dark, 
The  light  was  not  to  bless,  the  Cross  to  save. 
Stand  to  the  purpose,  till  tiiumphantly, 
Across  the  sea,  across  the  continent, 
To  the  full  limit  of  its  line  it  go, 
And  bear  the  banner  to  the  farthest  isle. 
Disciple  all  the  nations,  and  to  Christ 
Draw  the  devotion  of  his  royal  due. 
Smite  on  the  world  of  waters  ;  lo  !  afar 
The  nimble  impulse  reaches,  and  the  wave 
Runs  round  the  globe.     So  may  a  loving  stroke 
Shake  all  the  planet,  and  a  throb  of  heart 


1 86  THE    TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Send  life  beyond  the  seas.     Thy  influence  may, 
On  wings  celestial,  reach  remotest  shores 
With  blessing  in  its  beam,  thy  charity 
Blossom  in  distant  deserts,  and  thy  prayer 
Shed  its  prolific  dews  in  every  clime. 

Oh  !  the  sad  millions  pity,  in  their  blind 
Rush  to  the  deadly  chambers,  with  His  grief 
Who  wrought  the  cure  with  suffering.      Feel  the 

bruise 

Of  nations  in  their  bondage,  and  assist 
Redemption  to  her  triumph.     Let  the  earth, 
Wasted  with  sin,  lurid  in  wretchedness, 
\Vith  the  volcanic  curse  on  every  shore 
Heaving  and  raging  in  convulsion  dire, 
Full  through  thy  field  of  contemplation  sail, 
And  by  the  fearful  vision  well  awake 
The  cruel  slumbers  of  indifference. 
See  how  the  idols  yet  their  banners  flaunt 
In  grim  defiance  of  the  Son  of  God  ! 
See  demons  revel  in  the  wretchedness, 
And  countless  victims  gorge  !     See  darkness  fell, 
Belching  destruction  from  its  thunderous  throat, 
In  murky  masses  wildly  pour  along 
In  storms  of  death  !     See  millions,  mad  in  sin, 
Troop  in  the  ways  infernal,  holocausts 


THE   COURT   OF    THE    WORLD.  I&7 

Of  passion,  votaries  of  deluding  lies, 

Impudent,  lustful,  impious  to  defy 

The  lightning  lurking  in  the  arm  of  God ! 

See  churches,  mantled  once  in  holiness, 

And  beauteous  with  the  garments  of  the  King, 

Now  in  corruption  clad  !  the  heavenly  truth 

Deformed  with  falsehood,  heathen  mixtures  blent 

With  the  sweet  waters  of  the  wells  of  life  ; 

Barbaric  manners  made  devout ;  the  broad 

Way  signified  for  heaven  ;  the  crown  of  bliss 

The  purchase  of  a  song  ;  the  saintly  show 

Of  holy  vestments  on  Satanic  scurf, 

The  thin  disguise  of  crafty  villiany  ; 

The  pomp  of  worship,  pageantry  of  praise, 

That  only  pelt  with  pride  the  stately  roof, 

While  all  beyond  is  silent ;  helpless  sheep 

By  wolvish  shepherds  shorn,  and  from  the  sweet 

Pastures  of  plenty  driven  to  feed  on  thorns 

In  the  rough  comfort  of  the  wilderness. 

Hear,  hear,  from  depths  eternal,  surging  up 

In  everlasting  concert  of  despair, 

The  wail  of  endless  woe.     Hear  thine  own  heart 

In  fearful  memory  echo  to  the  groans, 

And  listen  to  thy  throbbing  sympathy. 

And  there  amid  the  gleaming  mansions  hear, 

From  every  region  gathered,  multitudes 


1 88  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Immortal,  in  their  glorious  blessedness, 
Pleading  with  harps  and  voices  jubilant 
To  swell  their  ranks  of  glory.     Higher  still, 
Louder  than  all  the  pealing  symphonies, 
Than  all  the  hallelujahs  of  the  blest, 
Even  with  the  silent  eloquence  of  hands 
That  lift  their  crimson  argument  to  God, 
Hear  the  full  welcome  of  the  gracious  Lamb, 
Ready  the  meanest  million  to  receive 
From  black  rebellion  to  the  bright  estate. 

What  page  is  there  of  famous  history, 
For  wealth  of  wisdom,  rank  of  nobleness, 
Zeal  of  devotion,  martial  enterprise, 
And  victory  of  illustrious  benefit, 
More  glorious  than  the  missionary  page, 
Where  saintly  heroes  everlasting  crowns 
Have  won,  and  in  unfading  garland  wear 
Above  the  blaze  of* arms  ?     The  brightest  fame, 
That  ever  wove  the  chaplets  of  the  brave, 
Pales  in  their 'bright  renown.     Ambitious  bays, 
With  cruel  blood  bedewed,  like  new-mown  weeds 
Wither  in  their  clear  glory.     All  the  earth 
Feels  their  heroic  pulses,  glorified, 
Above  the  valor  of  a  thousand  fields, 
In  such  high  feats  of  blessing.     World  on  world 


THE   COURT   OF    THE   WORLD.  189 

With  wonder  view  the  saintly  sacrifice, 

The  very  image  of  that  grace  Divine, 

Whose  earthly  life,  on  even  to  Calvary, 

In  every  vein  and  mortal  fibre  flowed 

With  missionary  blood.     They  lived  in  death, 

And  daily  from  the  altar,  like  a  flame, 

Rose  in  the  incense  of  their  offering. 

Sweetly  they  drank  the  bitter,  joyfully 

Their  cup  of  duty  to  the  dregs  of  blood. 

Onward  the  ark  in  valiant  arms  they  bore, 

The  sacred  banner  onward,  till  it  flames, 

Like  the  resplendent  heralding  of  day, 

On  all  the  hills  of  morning.     Mountain  peak 

To  the  far  sea  echoed  their  battle  cry 

Amid  the  falling  idols ;  and  their  fire 

Of  holy  zeal,  and  blaze  of  bravery, 

Burned  quenchless  to  the  grave.     And  from  their 

seed 

Bright  empires  sprang,  submissive  to  the  King, 
And  caught  the  royal  style  and  atmosphere 
Of  higher  skies,  Jerusalem  anew 
Rising  in  all  the  earth.     And  louder  grew 
The  music  of  their  march,  while  the  full  heavens 
Caught  up  in  chorus  the  triumphant  song. 

That  spirit  lives  to-day,  will  never  die, 


190 


THE    TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Nor  furl  its  ensign  to  the  enemy ; 

Lives  in  full  faith  of  costlier  victories, 

A  flame  of  blessing  in  the  heathen  night, 

That  in  a  rich,  inspiring  recompense 

Back  to  its  native  hearth  glances  ks  beams ; 

Worthy  of  valiant  help,  an  affluent  hand, 

To  hold  the  conquered,  win  advancing  fields. 

And  when,  from  far,  the  cry  for  succor  comes 

Above  the  din  and  fury  of  affairs, 

A  cry  of  anguish  in  the  bitter  stress 

Of  weakness  and  imperiled  victory, 

Along  the  kindling  ranks  then  let  it  ring, 

Like  the  shrill  trumpet  of  impassioned  war, 

To  stir  the  laggard  with  heroic  fire. 

Let  the  old  grave  of  fallen  valor  wake 

In  double  resurrection  ;  reinforce 

The  shattered  ensigns  ;    aged,  weary  years 

With  youthful  blood  anew  invigorate. 

Stand  by  them  in  the  battle  valiantly, 

With  heart  enamored  of  the  privilege, 

With  conquering  faith,  with  costly  gifts  of  love, 

Strong  with  the  almighty  promise,  till  on  all 

The  earth,  in  plentitude  of  victory, 

The  mighty  banner  of  the  Lord  is  furled. 

Now  from  the  oracles  prophetic  hear, 


THE  COURT  OF  THE  WORLD.          19 1 

With  burning  spirit  to  fulfil  the  word, 

The  voices  of  divine  encouragement, 

And  promises  of  God  :  "  Zion,  awake  ! 

Put  on  thy  strength,  Jerusalem  ;  arise, 

Clad  in  the  beauty  of  thy  bright  array. 

Arise  in  splendor ;  for  thy  light  is  come, 

And  on  thee  risen  the  glory  of  the  Lord. 

Darkness  the  earth,  gross  darkness  like  a  pall 

Covers  the  people  ;  but  on  thee  is  seen 

Jehovah  in  his  glory.     To  thy  light 

The  Gentiles  come,  and  to  thy  brightness  kings. 

Lift  up  thine  eyes,  see  how  in  throngs  they  come, 

Thy  sons  from  far,  thy  daughters  to  thy  side ! 

With  joy  and  fear  thy  heart  shall  overflow, 

Because  to  thee  the  abundance  of  the  sea 

Shall  turn,  and  riches  of  the  nations.     Lo ! 

The  isles  wait  for  me  ;  and  the  nimble  ships 

Fly  like  a  cloud,  or  swift  doves  to  their  cotes, 

Bringing  from  far  thy  sons,  with  golden  store, 

Unto  the  Holy  One  of  Israel, 

Who  thee  hath  beautified  so  gloriously. 

The  sons  of  strangers  shall  thy  walls  rebuild, 

Kings  to  thee  minister ;  for  where  in  wrath 

I  smote,  with  loving  favor  will  I  bless. 

Therefore,  by  day  nor  night,  shall  nevermore 

Thy  gates  be  shut,  that  men  to  thee  may  bring 


THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Their  riches  and  their  rulers ;  for  the  land 

That  will  not  serve  thee  shall  be  desolate, 

And  every  nation  wasted  utterly. 

They  that  afflicted  thee  shall  bending  come, 

They  that  despised  shall  bow  them  at  thy  feet, 

And  call  thee  "Zion,  City  of  the  Lord." 

No  more  forsaken,  hated,  I  will  make 

Thee  henceforth  an  eternal  excellence, 

A  joy  of  generations  without  end. 

With  royal  milk  shalt  thou  be  nursed,  and  know 

That  I,  the  Mighty  One  of  Israel, 

Am  thy  Redeemer,  and. thy  loving  Lord. 

I  will  restore  the  precious  for  the  vile, 

Make  peace  thy  law,  thy  rulers  righteousness. 

No  more  in  thee  shall  violence  be  heard, 

Nor  wasting  in  thy  borders,  but  thy  walls 

Salvation  shall  be  called,  and  thy  gates  Praise. 

Nor  sun,  nor  moon  more  shall  thy  brightness  be; 

The  Lord  alone  thy  light,  thy  glory  God. 

All  righteous  shall  thy  people  be,  the  earth 

Inherit,  that  I  may  be  glorified. 

For  I  have  set  upon  my  holy  hill 

My  Son  beloved,  my  anointed  King, 

To  rule  the  nations  with  a  rod  of  iron, 

And  dash  in  pieces  every  enemy. 

The  heathen  shall  be  his  inheritance, 


THE    COURT    OF   THE    WORLD.  193 

From  sea  to  sea  his  limitless  command. 
Before  him  shall  all  kings  in  homage  fall, 
All  people  serve  him,  and  their  presents  bring. 
His  kingdom  shall  all  kingdoms  of  the  world 
Break  and  consume,  and  like  a  mountain  roll 
Over  the  empires,  crushing  them  like  chaff 
Of  summer  threshing,  and  fill  all  the  earth. 
For  he  must  reign  till  every  enemy 
Is  made  his  footstool ;  till  to  him  shall  bow 
All  heaven  and  earth,  and  every  tongue  confess. 
Already,  lo,  he  comes!     Lift  up  your  heads, 
Ye  heavenly  gates !  and  be  ye  lifted  up, 
Ye  everlasting  doors !  and  welcome  in 
The  King  of  glory  from  his  victories." 

Wrought  in  the  spirit  of  these  promises, 
Triumphant  Zion !  to  thy  day  advance ; 
On  with  the  help  almighty.     More  and  more 
Let  earth  with  holy  enterprise  resound, 
With  fervent  supplication,  fervid  work, 
The  stir  of  love,  the  cheering  minstrelsy, 
The  trumpet  peal,  the  clash  of  sacred  war, 
The  rumble  of  advancing  victory, 
The  gracious  turmoil  of  foundations  laid, 
And  hallowed  noise  of  temples  everywhere 
Rising  to  God,     On,  more  and  more,  O  wheels! 


THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

That  high  and  dreadful  bear  the  burning  throne; 
Roll  on  in  might,  break  every  barrier  down, 
And  every  mountain  level  to  a  way 
For  the  victorious  Mercy.     Bend,  ye  winds! 
To  gentle  service  of  the  heavenly  sails. 
And  thou,  O  bosom  of  the  boisterous  deep! 
Thy  billows  to  a  softer  mood  command, 
And  tenderly  the  messengers  of  peace, 
The  sacred  ark  in  reverent  waftage  bear, 
Till  love  and  grace  shall  banner  every  shore, 
And  every  isle  salvation.     Haste,  O  Sun  ! 
To  give  the  nations  light ;  thy  face  unveil, 
Till  every  land  is  noon,  and  hideous  night 
Consume  her  idols  in  the  blaze  of  day. 
On,  Cross  of  Triumph  !  wider,  wider  yet, 
Celestial  ensigns  !  wave.     Arm  of  the  Lord  ! 
Awake,  awake,  as  in  the  ancient  days ; 
Gird  on  thy  sword,  and  prosperously  ride  ; 
Shake  all  the  nations,  and  thy  throne  restore. 
Church  of  the  living  God  !  thy  task  fulfil ; 
Enlarge  thy  past,  and  let  one  fervid  hour 
Outdo  an  age  of  frosty  indolence. 
Redeem  the  flying  moments,  and  redeem 
The  buried  opportunities  of  years, 
Planting  their  graves  with  nobler  monuments. 
See  yet  the  work  undone,  thy  faithful  hand, 


THE  COURT  OF  THE  WORLD.  19 

Obedient,  would  have  centuries  ago 
Reaped  with  a  crowded  sickle  !     Hasten  on 
The  coming  glory  of  the  promised  day, 
When  righteousness,  in  undisputed  rule, 
Under  new  heavens,  upon  an  earth  renewed, 
Shall  wield  the  empire  of  the  happy  world. 
Loosen  thy  bands,  and  from  captivity 
Leap  to  the  largest  liberty  of  love, 
And  to  the  garner  of  the  heavenly  Kins: 

J  O 

Harvest  the  nations.     Lo  !  the  womb  of  time 
With  mighty  fruit  is  teeming,  and  a  day 
May  bring  a  people  to  the  birth  of  God. 

Oh  !  fill  thy  faith  with  victory.     It  will  come, 
Though  tarrying  long,  as  surely  as  the  sun 
Scatters  the  darkness  with  his  wheels  of  fire  ; 
As  surely  as  the  Almighty  Faithfulness, 
With  every  force  obedient,  will  secure 
Th£  purposed  benediction  in  his  hour. 
Above  the  clouds  the  Mount  of  Vision  climb, 
And  far  and  wide,  on  wings  of  glory,  see 
The  starry  angels  of  [he  coining  age. 
Behold  the  advancing  Throne  !  The  mighty  wheels, 
Slow  through  the  centuries,  now  with  burning  orbs 
Are  swiftly  nearing  their  appointed  goal. 
Light  breaks  in  every  land.     The  sovereign  morn, 


196  THE    TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

With  bright  wings  of  the  everlasting  day, 
Hovers  above  the  hills.     Benignant  clouds, 
The  teeming  chariot  of  high  Providence, 
The  lightning  quenched,  the  threatening  thunder 

still, 

Hang  ready  in  the  heavens,  at  his  command, 
In  copious  grace  to  pour  their  blessings  down. 
Wake,  visionary  hope !  now  wake  to  find 
More  than  thy  dreams  fulfilled.     Already  hear 
Pealing  the  bells  celestial,  whose  glad  tongues, 
Instinct  with  prophecy,  salute  the  end. 
The  idols  mutter  in  their  livid  rage, 
And  writhe  in  their  own  fires ;  devils  incensed 
Within  the  flames  with  fury,  that  at  length 
The  direful  superstitions,  which  so  long 
Have  bound  the  nations  to  their  tyranny, 
Are  broken  from  the  world.     Philosophy, 
In  sweeter  mood  of  meekness,  reverently 
Sits  at  the  footstool  of  celestial  truth, 
And  reason  comes  to  reason.     Science  gives, 
From  her  imperial  treasures  wide  displayed, 
To  every  fair  necessity  of  men, 
A  thousand-fold  more  with  a  righteous  hand, 
Than  when,  all  puffed  and  blatant  with  conceit, 
She  seeks  alone  to  solve  the  mysteries, 
And  worships  merely  things  ;  advancing  still 


THE    COURT   OF   THE    WORLD. 

Higher  and  wider  with  advancing  faith, 

And  wiser  growing,  as  ready  to  discern 

In  every  atom,  law,  force,  element, 

The  vital  throbbing  of  the  Deity, 

And  mighty  will  of  God.     Art,  to  her  touch 

The  untainted  nature  wooing,  cunningly 

To  fairer  forms  her  plastic  matter  moulds ; 

The  truth  in  beauty  shapes,  with  the  exquisite 

Adorning  of  the  soul,  in  purity 

And  nobleness  severe.     Great  industry 

To  richer  toil  her  steady  forces  turns, 

With  consecrated  wheels,  and  enginery 

Smooth  as  the  still  machinery  of  the  stars ; 

The  heavens  in  harness,  angels  in  the  yoke, 

The  might  of  honest  strokes,  the  just  reward, 

And  equal  honor  to  the  iron  arm 

As  to  the  hand  of  gold.     The  nobler  parts, 

By  virtue  quickened  almost  to  divine, 

Foresee  and  ponder  with  an  energy 

Rivaling  celestial,  wing  no  barren  clime, 

Make  knowledge  facile,  reason  a  delight, 

And  wisdom  like  a  cup  of  ruddy  wine 

In  its  delicious  ease.     The  cumbrous  flesh, 

In  emulation  of  its  spirit  lord, 

The  generous  pressure  feels,  the  stimulus 

Of  holy  nurture,  drinks  the  wholesome  air 


197 


198  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

As  at  a  banquet,  knits  its  noble  form 

To  wondrous  shapes  of  strength  and  comeliness, 

Laughs  at  disorder,  and  with  every  pore 

Blesses  the  healthful  holiness.     The  fields, 

In  sympathy  through  every  atom,  load 

The  fertile  year  with  harvests  like  the  heart, 

So  bounteous,  every  mouth  abundantly 

With  food  is  filled,  and  the  contented  song  : 

The  happy  fields,  compelled  no  more  to  drink 

The  bloody  springs  of  battle,  and  no  more 

To  turn  to  golden  grain  the  crimson  dew, 

Fashion  sweet  roses  out  of  human  gore, 

And  point  the  thorn  with  mortal  agony. 

War  blushes  at  his  glory,   snaps  his  sword, 

Furls  his  proud  banner,  weds  eternal  peace. 

No  more  the  cruel  greed  despoils,  insults 

The  cry  of  suffering,  and  the  widowed  heart 

Pinches  with  frosty  fingers  of  neglect ; 

But  love  is  sovereign,  and  supremely  binds 

The  palace  and  the  cottage,  strong  and  weak, 

Whatever  image  in  the  wide  world  wears 

The  superscription  of  humanity, 

In  one  fast  bond  of  tender  brotherhood. 

The  lion  and  the  lamb,  as  of  one  blood, 

Lie  down  together  in  one  peaceful  fold, 

And  the  child  sports  around  the  serpent's  den. 


THE  COURT   OF   THE   WORLD.  199 

To  peaceful  plains  the  hostile  mountains  melt ; 
And  where  the  surly  walls  once  belched  in  flames 
Their  thunderous  hate,  now  friendly  welcome  sits 
With  wide-unfolded  gates,  upon  whose  crest 
No  more  the  eagle,  with  his  wings  of  war, 
And  grasping  talons,  and  ambitious  eye, 
Sits  the  defiant  emblem,  but  the  dove, 
Fledged  in  the  nest  of  peace.     The  gentler  seas, 
From  shore  to  shore,  in  honest  commerce  blend 
Fraternal  interests,  and  the  cordial  hand, 
Across  the  ocean,  with  a  bridge  of  heart, 
Makes  highway  of  unselfish  pilgrimage. 
All  zones  are  temperate,  every  region  pure 
From  equitorial  passions,  polar  frosts, 
Serene  and  interfused  beneath  that  Sun, 
Whose  gracious  presence  gives  perennial  good, 
One  blissful  circle,  one  enchanted  clime. 
For  now  the  Lord  supreme  supremely  reigns 
In  every  mansion,  and  adoring  gifts 
Daily  the  grateful  earth  reconsecrate, 
Till  ail  is  one  great  altar,  one  vast  throne. 
Doubly  the  tithes  are  tithed,  no  object  lacks; 
The  full  heart  gives  a  flowing  treasury : 
And  alms,  less  needed,  are  the  more  bestowed, 
Till  not  a  hearth  but  has  its  bounteous  share, 
The  plate  of  plenty,  and  the  rich  content. 


200  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 


No  vine  is  barren ;  and  the  teeming  fruit 
Is  hallowed  in  ite  consecrated  use, 
To  each  sufficient,  and  the  whole  to  God. 
Jesus  has  triumphed ;  Satan  fast  in  chains, 
And  the  celestial  banners  everywhere 
Floating  in  peace.     Fulfilled  is  every  word. 
The  happy  earth  millennial  glory  crowns, 
And  heaven  itself  descends  to  dwell  with  men. 


BOOK    IX. 
FINISHED. 


Prayer'for  illumination  in  the  future  mysteries.  Death.  The  convoy 
of  angels.  Farewell  flight  among  the  stars.  Blessed  welcome  to  Heaven. 
Instruction  in  celestial  knowledge  and  duty.  Heavenly  occupation.  In 
terest  still,  and  participation  in  earthly  events.  The  advancing  Kingdom 
of  Christ.  The  millenial  years.  Satan,  loose  again  for  a  last  effort,  is 
baffled.  The  second  advent  of  Christ  in  glorious  majesty.  The  resurrec 
tion  of  the  dead,  and  transformation  of  the  living.  Earth  in  flames.  The 
Last  Judgment.  The  happy  trial  of  the^  righteous  ;  the  reality  far  beyond 
the  hope.  Grace  ever  new  and- wonderful.  The  wicked  condemned,  and 
with  fury  plunge  to  their  place.  The  Messiah,  with  his  greater  hosts  of  the 
redeemed,  ascends;  in  triumph  to  Heaven. 


O  Thou,  who  dost  on  chosen  lips  preside, 
Wisely  to  open,  and  thy  will  declare, 
Prophetic  voices  sounding  to  the  soul 
To  show  the  secrets  of  the  hidden  night, 
Direct  me,  as  I  seek  to  pierce  the  veil, 
And  tell  the  wonders  of  the  land  beyond, 
The  glory,  and  the  everlasting  dread  : 
That  not  a  thought,  bewildered  in  the  way, 
Thriftless  of  truth,  attempt  unworthily 

201 


202  THE    TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

The  dizzy  circuit  of  the  heavens  to  tread, 
And  bear  a  message  to  a  mortal  ear. 

Lo,  the  grim  King  !    He  comes,  he  comes  to  raze 
The  fleshly  temple,  that  with  fairer  towers, 
Upon  the  farther  shore,  it  may  arise 
In  beauty  everlasting,  nevermore 
To  feel  the  tooth  of  time,  the  wracking  storm, 
The  fire  of  passion.     Welcome  to  the  stroke, 
The  mortal  birth-throe  of  eternal  day 
Out  of  the  night  of  time  !     Thy  grisly  watch, 
O  Death  !  ushers  the  morn.     God's  messenger, 
My  joy  thou  art,  and  all  thy  ghostly  arms 
Shall  not  disturb  my  peace.     The  heavenly  Will, 
That  all  things  carries  in  his  sovereign  care, 
And  guides  the  wafture  of  the  darkest  wing, 
Will  not  direct  amiss.     Ready  to  stay, 
The  daily  duties  gladly  to  fulfil ; 
To  the  bright  mansions  ready  to  depart, 
And  ever  be  with  Christ :  so  would  I  go, 
With  grace  to  greet  thy  coming,  as  fast  friends, 
From  sometime  enemies,  in  close  embrace 
Walk  with  accordant  arms.    Where  now  thy  sting, 
Thou  rude  revenger  of  the  broken  law, 
With  sin  by  Christ  disarmed  ?  Where,  where  is  now 
Thy  victory,  when  thy  great  Conqueror 


FINISHED.  203 

Has  hung  thy  bed  with  hope,  and  garlanded 

Thy  gates  with  glory?     Come,  with  sudden  stroke 

Appalling,  in  a  moment  shut  my  breath, 

And  stop  the  cunning  business  of  my  blood ; 

Or  take  me  gently  in  a  blissful  dream  ; 

Or,  night  and  day,  my  rueful  body  rack 

With  pangs  of  dying  years ;  or  on  me  bind 

The  martyr's  fiery  crown  ;  still,  still  art  thou 

My  pioneer  of  glory,  door  of  life, 

And  conquered  servant  to  my  liberty. 

With  Jesus,  who  thy  darkest  way  has  trod, 

My  feet,  if  faithful  in  his  living  steps, 

Shall  follow  boldly  through  the  mortal  gates, 

To  walk  immortal  in  the  streets  of  gold. 

See  yon  bright  legion,  like  a  sun,  descend 
With  golden  wings  and  heavenly  blazonry  ! 
Hark,  what  etherial  music  !  richer  than 
Earth  with  her  richest  voices  ever  sang. 
Celestial  splendor  !  like  a  gorgeous  sea 
Floating  the  airy  troop.     The  odorous  wind, 
As  wafted  from  the  bloom  of  Paradise, 
Hums  with  angelic  pinions,  and  around 
Swims  everything  in  beauty.     And  I  hear 
A  voice  so  sweet,  it  passes  human  sound  : 
"  Come,  O  beloved !  with  us  come  away, 


204*  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

To  join  the  happy  choirs,  the  multitudes 
In  bliss  and  glory  by  the  throne  of  God." 

A  moment,  and  beyond  the  earthly  form 
I  stand  unclothed  and  ready.     And  as  when 
Her  newborn  child  the  eager  mother  clasps 
Exulting,  so  with  rapturous  love  they  greet 
My  mortal  birth,  unite  me  to  their  train, 
Bosom  in  myrrh,  and  sweep  like  light  away. 

Farewell,  O  beauteous  orb  !  that  yonder  hangs 
A  jewel  on  the  forehead  of  the  night ; 
Where  I  have  loved  the  mountain  and  the  sea, 
The  meadow,  woodland,  bird  and  flowery  gem, 
Have  wandered  in  the  shadow  and  the  sun, 
With  joy  and  sorrow  oft  in  company; 
Farewell,  but  not  for  ever.    Yet  again, 
Out  of  the  mighty  presence,  from  the  sphere 
Of  bliss  and  sinless  immortality, 
I  come,  unseen,  to  mingle  in  your  scenes, 
In  ministry  of  mercy.     Kindred  hearts  ! 
In  happy  bands  united,  knit  in  love, 
Our  fold  a  refuge  from  the  weary  world, 
A  roof  of  quiet  comfort,  where  content 
With  frugal  plenty  smiled ;  now,  now  at  length, 
The  heavy  word,  farewell.     Be  still,  be  still ! 


FINISHED.  205 

And  with  a  grateful  memory  wipe  your  tears,. 

And  greet  the  will  Divine.     Farewell,  O  tent ! 

That  goodly  shelter  gave  me  in  the  flesh  ; 

Lie  folden  till  the  resurrection  morn. 

Bright  flowers  along  my  pathway  !  dead  so  soon, 

With  secret  sharpness  fenced,  farewell ;  above, 

The  fadeless  wreaths,  the  thornless  garlands  grow* 

Comrades  of  battle,  fellowships  of  toil, 

Rough  scenes  of  struggle,  arms  o[  righteousness  ! 

Farewell  for  ever.     Lo  !  to  heavenly  rest 

I  hasten,  to  angelic  intercourse, 

And  tented  triumph  on  eternal  hills. 

Storms,  rude  temptations,  buffets,  bitter  tears, 

Night,  terror,  sin,  all  fearful  things!  farewell 

For  peace  unruffled,  sinless,  tearless  joy, 

And  all  the  dear  beatitudes  of  God. 

O  every  one  !  if  any  I  have  wronged, 

Or  any  me,  forgive,  as  I  forgive 

The  bitterest  word  or  act  of  injury ; 

Farewell,  and  with  the  fondly  ardent  hope 

We  may  embrace  within  the  City,  where 

Forgiveness  in  full  splendor  is  enthroned. 

Farewell,  O  Church  of  Christ !  in  spirit  still, 

Still  with  thee,  with  intenser  sympathy, 

Though  absent,  or  in  viewless  embassy 

Out  of  the  shining  armies,  I  help  on 


206  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Thy  course  of  victory.     All,  all,  farewell ! 

Away,  away,  at  the  celestial  call, 

With  bright  battalions,  rapturously  I  fly ; 

Away,  away,  to  everlasting  life, 

The  vision  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord. 

My  farewell  lingers,  as  if  loth  to  leave 
The  earthly  object  for  the  seraph  song, 
And  whispers  lovingly  millions  of  leagues 
Along  the  dizzy  flight.     Past  fiery  orbs, 
Past  planets  thronged  with  angels  that  respond 
In  chorus  with  our  anthem,  past  the  troops 
Of  serving  cherubim,  past  cloudy  fiends 
That  scowl  like  night  on  our  triumphant  port, 
Swifter  than  comet,  than  the  lightning's  wing, 
In  angel  arms  superbly  charioted, 
With  years  in  moments  of  their  wisdom  wise, 
With  heavenly  news  and  heavenly  foretaste  filled, 
And  all  the  way  one  rapturous  note  of  bliss, 
We  reach  the  mural  Mother,  who  throws  wide, 
With  welcome  and  exulting  eagerness, 
Her  warm  embrace.     The  Golden  City  glows 
With  splendor  of  the  Lord,  the  light  thereof, 
Attracting  to  its  centre  from  the  spheres 
Remotest  the  bright  pinions,  as  a  flame 
The  wandering  wings  of  night.    And  there  they  lay 


FINISHED.  207 

At  those  majestic  feet  their  happy  charge, 
Rewarded  in  the  blissful  privilege 
Humbly  to  serve,  in  lowly  reverence  bent,    • 
And  bathe  their  spirits  in  the  smile  of  God. 
Taught  in  the  heavenly  method,  first  of  all, 
To  every  other  thought  and  object  blind, 
With  grateful  adoration,  blissful  love. 
Impassioned  praise,  the  Lord  God  and  the  Lamb 
Lowly  I  worship  ;  with  a  tenfold  heart 
As  in  my  bosom  throbbing,  to  behold, 
In  vision  beatific,  face  to  face, 
The  King  of  glory  in  his  majesty. 
The  infinite  smile  is  welcome  ;  rank  on  rank 
Sweetly  respond  ;  heaven  to  its  centre  burns 
With  rapture  at  another  soul  secure ; 
While  thrice  ten  thousand  thousand  harps  anew 
Resound  the  greeting  :  "  Welcome,  welcome  home  ! 
From  earthly  wandering  to  the  heavenly  weal, 
From  earthly  crosses  to  the  rich  reward. 
Welcome  to  these  bright  mansions,  this  estate 
Of  love,  of  peace,  of  kingly  fellowship, 
Our  songs,  our  service,  our  unending  bliss. 
Hail,  brother !  here  thy  waiting  harp  receive, 
And  join  our  joyous  triumph.     Conqueror,  hail ! 
Thy  crown  awaits  thee  in  the  fadeless  light. 
All  blessing,  honor,  to  thy  worthy  name, 


208  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

All  praise,  dominion,  glory,  Lamb  of  God  1  " 

And  I  in  radiant  vesture  am  arrayed, 
Bright  as  the  morning,  whiter  than  the  snow, 
Sweeter  than  incense,  as  a  happy  bride 
For  the  glad  season  ;  timidly  at  first, 
With  the  recoil  and  flush  of  modesty, 
In  the  prodigious  presence.     But  not  long, 
And  the  new  home  is  as  the  home  of  years  ; 
And,  like  a  courtier  with  familiar  grace, 
I  mingle  in  the  grand  society, 
And  fill  my  lips  and  hands  with  such  sweet  joy 
As  only  angels  know.     Lo  !  Peter  first 
With  glowing  promptness  presses  to  impart 
Impassioned  greeting  ;  and  seraphic  John, 
With  his  paternal,  "  Welcome,  little  child !  " 
And  then,  from  all  the  condescending  lips 
Of  throned  apostles,  "  Welcome,  welcome ! "  sounds 
Like  a  rich  chime  of  glory.     Prophets,  kings, 
Saints,  sages,  martyrs,  heroes,  grasp  my  hand, 
And  on  my  visage  lay  their  sweet  salute ; 
Greeting  me,  from  their  occupation  bent, 
The  least  of  all  and  lowest,  honored  so 
All  for  the  Master's  sake ;  rejoicing  proof, 
Pride  has  no  place  in  heaven.     And  there  I  meet 
Once  more  the  old  familiar  faces,  still 


FINISHED.  209 

Featured  the  same,  with  added  beauty  rare, 

The  comrades,  kindred,  neighbors,  fellows,  friends, 

Before  me  in  the  process  of  the  skies, 

And  press  them  with  embraces  such  as  earth 

With  her  cold  arms  knew  never,  and  again, 

With  memory  long  and  rapturous  review, 

Relive  the  years  of  time.     And  now  from  Paul 

Flows  deep  discourse,  with  wisdom  radiant, 

With  graphic  utterance,  and  seraphic  fire, 

And  tenfold  lus.tre  of  his  eloquence, 

And  inspiration  at  its  very  spring ; 

A  new  epistle  to  my  eager  soul, 

Deeply  to  sound  the  unfathomable  sea 

Of  God,  redemption,  and  the  mystery 

Of  Christ  discrowned  a  richer  crown  to  win ; 

With  more  interpretation  in  a  word 

Than  in  a  thousand  burly  messages 

Of  earthly  reason.     Haply,  in  the  rest 

And  leisure  of  eternal  day,  beside 

My  mother  angel  like  a  child  I  sit, 

So  fair,  so  wise,  so  noble,  now  yet  more 

By  the  rich  years  of  heavenly  residence ; 

In  her  endearments  once  again  rejoice, 

And  hear  my  consecration  from  the  womb, 

Her  prayerful  shield,  her  guardian  ministry, 

Through  many  a  snare  and  perils  manifold ; 


210  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Drink  from  the  crystal  fountain  of  her  lips 

Limpid  instruction  to  my  questioning, 

In  the  ripe  lore  of  heaven,  and  have  her  guide 

My  worship,  wisdom,  service,  till  my  wing 

Is  strong  and  swift  with  hers,  and  fearlessly 

Sweeps  through  the  empyrean.     Or  afar, 

With  studious  troops,  philosophers  in  light, 

Seraphic  messengers,  to  distant  worlds 

Wandering,  or  sweetly  through  delicious  groves, 

Or  by  the  river  of  immortal  life, 

Or  in-  the  golden  mansions,  we  revolve 

The  works  and  wonders  of  the  Almighty  hand, 

Enraptured ;  the  effects  of  Providence, 

The  sway  of  righteousness,  the  gifts  of  Grace, 

The  marvellous  story,  and  the  ensanguined  clew 

From  Eden  to  the  last  sepulchred  dust, 

Interpreting  the  nations  at  the  Cross , 

The  heavenly  history  from  the  primal  dawn, 

And  stars  of  morning,  to  the  dark  eclipse 

Of  the  rebellious  angels,  and  the  last 

Decree  of  uttered  love.     Or,  with  the  harp, 

And  song  triumphant,  lofty  minstrelsy, 

Among  the  choirs  cherubic,  we  unite 

The  rapturous  notes  of  hallelujah,  like 

The  voice  of  many  waters,  till  resounds 

The  mighty  dome  above,  and  distant  spheres 


FINISHED. 

Roll  back  the  echo  of  our  jubilee. 
So  bright,  so  glorious  is  celestial  time ; 
The  heavenly  work  so  hallowed,  ages  seem 
Like  moments  in  the  blissful  holiness. 

The  cycles  hasten ;  more  and  more  the  earth 
Rolls  in  the  music  of  a  holier  song, 
Burns  in  the  splendor  of  a  purer  light, 
Moves  in  the  triumph  of  a  braver  truth, 
On  to  millennial  glory.     I  a  part 
Am  still,  and  high  commissions  bear,  and  reap 
With  heavenly  sickle  from  the  human  years. 
Battles  are  yet,  and  martyr  suffering, 
And  cruel  lies,  and  Satan's  fiery  rage ; 
So  stubborn  and  so  fearful  is  the  clutch 
And  dire  tenacity  of  rooted  wrong. 
But  Christ,  the  Conqueror,  more  and  more  secures 
His  promised  triumph  and  his  chariot  wheels, 
In  brighter  majesty  of  truth  and  right, 
Roll  with  his  throne.     Out  of  his  mouth  a  sword 
Goes  sharply  forth,  resplendent  with  the  edge 
Of  judgment ;  and  his  obdurate  enemies, 
Cut  to  the  quick,  their  wounded  hearts  lay  down 
In  love,  or  fall  beneath  his  burning  stroke, 
As  leaves  to  ashes  crumble  in  the  flame. 
His  sceptre  brightens,  with  such  majesty 


212  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Eclipses  monarchs,  as  from  the  eastern  gates 

Day  the  dun  night ;  and,  as  the  cedar  vast 

The  brambles,  so  with  broad,  benignant  sway 

Shelters  the  nations.     Rulers,  princes,  kings, 

Submit  their  glory,  and  with  graceful  joy 

Yield  their  dominion  to  a  higher  lord, 

Or  yield  their  signets  to  a  worthier  hand. 

The  pagan  hosts  in  swift  submission  fall, 

Burn  up  their  idols,  and  with  holy  heat 

Curse  the  wild  madness  of  the  centuries, 

And  mock  the  demons  frantic  to  uphold 

The  rod  and  terror  of  their  vassalage. 

The  Prophet  false,  in  fury  of  his  fate, 

Vainly  attempts  the  glorious  tide  to  stem, 

O'erwhelmed,  and  in  the  whirling  progress  plunged, 

His  crescent  splendor  buried  in  the  flood 

Of  the  advancing  victory,  as  the  sea 

Swallows  the  bubble,  and  then  passes  on. 

And  that  fell  Tyranny,  upon  whose  brow 

Of  blasphemy  the  stolen  cliadem 

Of  Heaven  has  rested  all  these  ages  long, 

In  scarlet  blaze  of  pride  and  insolence, 

Throttling  aspiring  nations,  piling  high 

Rude  mountains  on  the  breast  of  liberty, 

Obstructing  light,  compelling  ignorance, 

Deceiving  with  her  cunning  enginery 


FINISHED.  213 

Of  pomp  and  error,  with  her  sorceries 
Enticing  to  her  hideous  lap  of  shame, 
Red  to  the  reeking  lips  with  martyr  blood, 
Now  with  avenging  lightning  smitten  lies, 
Her  smoke  ascending,  vain  her  bitter  wail, 
And  all  the  millions  of  her  long  deceived 
Awaking  from  their  stupor  to  the  arms 
And  banners  of  defiance.     More  and  more 
The  scroll  of  prophecy  its  page  fulfils. 
Irradiant  triumph  more  and  more  surmounts 
The  hills,  and  weaker,  weaker  grow  the  wings 
Of  darkness,  till  the  promised  day  has  come, 
And,  lo,  the  earth  is  Zion  !  zone  to  zone 
A  holy  temple,  every  wind  a  song,  . 
An  anthem  every  sea,  the  continents 
One  altar,  every  vale  and  mountain  praise, 
And  every  isle  devotion.     All  the  air, 
Balmy  with  breezes  of  celestial  breath, 
Floats  gently  as  a  summer  eventide  ; 
And  fruitfully  the  generous  sun  looks  down 
Tenfold  in  harvest.     Love  at  last  is  throned 
In  full  dominion  to  the  utmost  bound. 
The  happy  planet  runs  her  shining  way, 
And  bravely  bears  her  glittering  fires  afar, 
Not  sinless,  but  with  such  effulgent  grace, 
More  like  a  sun,  the  suns  themselves  confess 


214  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Her  fellowship  of  glory  with  their  gleam, 

And  yield  her  homage  through  the  fields  of  heaven. 

And  often,  then,  with  scarce  a  change  of  air, 
In  journey  curious,  or  swift  embassy 
Of  blessing,  visit  I  the  haunts  of  men, 
City  and  field,  the  quiet  paths  of  peace, 
The  thundering  passages,  the  crowded  marts, 
Testing  the  living  temper  of  the  world, 
And  everywhere,  on  everything,  behold 
The  stamp  of  holiness ;  upon  the  face, 
The  pen,  apparel,  coin,  cups,  implements, 
On  every  law,  art,  science,  industry, 
The  bar  of  justice,  and  the  rod  of  state. 
For  every  throne  is  emptied  for  the  Lord, 
The  palace  lowly,  and  the  commerce  clean, 
The  temples  filled  with  meek  sincerity, 
And  every  cottage  with  contentedness : 
While  thus  in  glory  roll  the  thousand  years,  - 
Till  heaven  is  full,  and  Jesus  satisfied. 

Then,  by  some  deep  expedient  mystery, 
The  Devil,  from  his  fetters  burning  hot, 
Rages  to  resubdue  his  empire,  fill 
The  earth  anew  with  sorrow,  sin  and  death, 
And  reassert  his  banner  ;  well  aware 


FINISHED.  215 

His  hour  is  short.     Like  a  tornado  fell, 

Through  fields  of  verdant  splendor,  sweeping  up 

Spoil  in  terrific  harvest,  and  behind 

Leaving  a  track  of  ravage,  and  again, 

Ere  one  can  wonder,  plunging  to  the  deep  ; 

So,  through  the  lands  millennial,  vengefully 

Satan  with  fury  springs,  and  gathers  up 

The  relics  of  corruption,  seething  still 

Under  the  hallowed  glory,  and  arrays 

Against  the  City  and  the  saintly  camp 

A  mighty  host  embattled.     High  and  fierce 

The  infernal  engines  bellow,  and  around 

Long  lines  of  hate  and  fiery  violence 

Batter  the  bastions,  thunder  at  the  gates, 

Poison  the  fountains,  and  with  blustering  ire 

Defy  the  Power  supernal.     Once  again 

Earth  seems  to  reel,  as  ready  to  renew 

Allegiance  to  the  cursed  tyranny, 

Her  holy  splendor  quench  before  the  night, 

Roll  back  the  golden  ages,  and  begin, 

Anew  and  worse,  her  wild  career  of  shame ; 

Proof  still,  and  stronger,  for  eternal  force, 

How  impotent  are  undefended  hearts, 

Open  to  Hell,  against  the  wiles  of  sin. 

Only  a  moment ;  and  the  sudden  shock, 

Threatening  the  very  heavens,  as  suddenly 


2l6  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Is  swallowed  in  the  surge  of  victory. 

For  Christ  is  King,  and  from  his  magazines 

Of  judgment,  stored  with  blazing  thunderbolts, 

Rains  hot  destruction  on  the  surly  top 

Of  this  ambition,  and  consumes  the  host, 

As  tender  blossoms  wither  in  the  blast. 

And,  as  an  earthquake  with  determined  ire 

Shakes  the  strong  city,  and  would  overthrow 

The  steady  structures  of  its  massiveness ; 

Defeated,  slinks  into  his  caves  again, 

And  eats  his  anger  in  his  native  fires : 

So  back  the  thwarted  Dragon  to  his  den 

In  sullen  madness  rages,  evermore 

To  fret  in  fury  of  his  impotence. 

Thus  ends  this  last  eruption,  with  the  end 

And  consummation  of  all  history  ; 

Satan  forever  to  his  fetters  cast, 

Messiah  in  eternal  glory  crowned. 

Now  there  is  mustering  in  the  heavens,  the  stir 
Of  mighty  preparation.     From  his  throne, 
The  Son  of  God,  in  full  effulgence  clad 
Ot  justice  kindling  to  its  holy  work, 
Orders  the  glorious  morn  ;  while  from  afar 
Bright  legions  hasten,  host  on  glittering  host, 
To  swell  the  triumph  of  his  coming,  now 


FINISHED. 


217 


In  flaming  fire  for  judgment,  and  to  be 
In  all  his  saints  admired  and  glorified. 
The  universe  with  wonder,  like  a  child 
Aroused  upon  the  fearful  watch  of  night, 
In  breathless  awe  is  hushed  ;  as,  with  a  shout, 
The  voice  of  the  archangel,  and  the  trump, 
Rolling  its  peal  a  thousand  thunders  deep, 
Startling  the  worlds,  the  dead,  the  dark  abyss, 
The  Lord  himself  descends,  upon  his  throne 
In  glittering  brightness  flaming,  like  a  sun ; 
Upon  the  wings  magnificently  borne 
Of  mighty  cherubim  ;  divinely  orbed 
With  hosts  resplendent,  numberless  as  never 
In  mortal  ranks  an  earthly  conqueror  led  ; 
In  splendor  of  unclouded  majesty ; 
With  final  banner  to  the  war  with  death, 
Awake  the  graves,  the  gathered  nations  judge. 
Like  lightning,  on  a  calm  and  noiseless  night, 
Flashing  its  sudden  fire,  from  every  lid 
The  drowsy  slumber  startling ;  so  he  bursts, 
With  sharp  arrest  of  every  living  eye, 
In  unexpected  glory  from  the  clouds. 
It  is  the  high  and  dread  magnificence, 
A  hundred-fold,  of  Sinai's  fearful  awe, 
Descending  through  the  air.     Nor  now  alone 
The  earth  is  shaken,  but  the  utmost  heaven  ; 


2l3  THE    TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

And  hell,  with  banners  drooped  and  curses  mute, 

In  terror  trembles  through  its  caves  of  gloom. 

Arched  with  the  flaming  sky,  and  far  as  sight 

Girt  with  the  glittering  armies,  host  on  host, 

Upon  a  pavement  of  resplendent  cloud, 

Himself  essential  Glory  radiant, 

Before  whose  face  flee  all  the  worlds  away 

And  find  no  refuge,  staying  in  mid-air, 

From  the  white  splendor  of  his  dazzling  throne, 

The  judgment  hour  proclaiming,  the  great  King 

The  dead  and  living  summons  to  his  seat. 

Earth  hears  ;  and,  lo  !  the  very  utmost  grave 
Stirs  with  the  yielding  of  reluctant  death. 
Ages  of  sleep  awake ;  the  righteous  first, 
As  used  already  to  obey  their  Lord. 
They  come,  they  come,  the  countless  swarms  of  life, 
Nation  on  nation  thronging,  age  on  age, 
From  saintly  tombs  and  pagan  sepulchres  ; 
From  mausoleum,  crypt  and  catacomb ; 
From  mounds  ignoble,  pompous  monuments ; 
From  aged  ashes,  coffined  infancy, 
The  ancient  cerements,  the  yester  grave, 
Scarce  dry  of  tears,  bright  with  unwithered  flowers  ; 
From  the  dear  dust  beneath  the  quiet  shade 
And  beauty  of  the  leafy  firmament ; 


FINISHED.  219 

From  fields  of  carnage,  battened  with  the  blood 
Of  grappling  multitudes,  and  peaceful  vales, 
Where  war's  rough  hoof  ne'er  bruised  a  violet ; 
From  polar  ices,  and  imprisoning  rocks, 
Now  impotent  as  air  to  hold  their  prey  ; 
From  all  the  seas,  as  countless  as  their  drops  ; 
From  all  the  lands,  as  if  the  general  ground 
Were  teeming  with  a  quick  humanity : 
Celestial  bodies,  and  the  mortal  now 
Clothed  in  the  immortality  of  light, 
The  soul  revested  for  eternity. 
Up,  up  they  sweep,  as  when  the  feathery  flocks, 
In  trim  battalions,  from  the  startled  fields, 
Upon  their  brilliant  plumes  pour  numberless, 
Darkening  the  sun ;  each  spirit  with  his  own, 
Without  mistake,  as  birds,  instinct  with  God, 
From  summer  climes  again  unerringly 
To  their  old  haunts  return  ;  now  nevermore 
Winter  to  know,  if  sin  no  more  is  known  : 
With  all  the  living,  from  the  quartered  world, 
Out  of  the  myriad  cities  and  the  lands 
Burdened  with  population,  at  the  trump 
Changed  to  the  shape  immortal,  brightly  clothed 
Without  the -dark  disrobing,  disenthralled 
From  mortal  peril  by  one  stroke  of  life  ; 
Translated,  with  Elijah  in  the  van, 


220  THE    TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

And  elder  Enoch,  beautiful  and  grand 
With  ages  of  the  skies ;  aloft  caught  up, 
With  eager  some,  some  with  reluctant  wing, 
The  Lord  to  meet,  and  his  assembled  court, 
Upon  the  cloudy  floor:  till  all  are  there, 
From  the  first  father  to  the  latest  birth, 
A  multitude  which  only  God  can  know. 
And  last,  the  infernal  prisoners,  angels  once, 
Reserved  in  darkness  to  this  direful  day, 
In  stormy  fury  surging,  from  their  chains 
Throng  with  reluctant  terror  to  the  throne, 
Which  their  fierce  Captain  vainly  sought  to  foil  ; 
Now  a  sad  captive,  like  a  shackled  king, 
Writhing  in  passion,  racked  with  grim  despair, 
Seamed  with  the  lightning,  his  rebellious  art 
Making  him  first  in  woe,  as  first  in  sin; 
A  spectacle  so  piteous  all  the  heavens 
Rain  drops  compassionate,  from  which  the  Sun 
Gathers  his  bright  bow,  and  across  the  clouds 
Bends  in  the  beauty  of  his  holiness. 

And  now  a  glance  of  the  consuming  Eye, 
In  judgment  flashing  on  the  sullied  globe, 
Kindles  the  purging  flame.     The  elements, 
Impatient,  from  their  fetters  leap,  and  play 
In  a  wild  freedom;  and  the  startled  stars 


FINISHED,  221 

Hide  in  the  lurid  glory.     With  a  crash 

The  burning  heavens  dissolve,  and  like  a  scroll 

Are  wrapped  away.     The  hot,  terrific  war 

Triumphantly  through  every  climate  sweeps 

With  blazing  banners,  charioted  in  flame, 

Armed  with  the  lightning,  and  the  very  deep 

With  greed  insatiate  gorging.     Fire  is  king, 

And,  like  a  god,  his  pleasure  executes. 

The  mountains  melt,  in  flaming  torrents  flow; 

Continents  are  volcanoes,  and  afar 

The  weltering  ocean  burns.     Earth  retches  deep, 

And  spurts  the  molten  centre  to  the  stars ; 

Infernal  billows  rolling,  sea  on  sea, 

A  fiery  deluge,  till  the  planet  boils 

With  all  the  dire  combustion  of  its  birth, 

From  pole  to  pole  a  seething  globe  of  wrath; 

Like  a  new  hell  enkindled,  to  express 

The  fate  and  fury  of  unrighteousness. 

Gone,  gone  for  ever,  all  the  old  renown, 
Each  feature  and  familiar  circumstance. 
Gone  the  fair  face  of  Nature,  every  plant, 
Blossom,  beast,  forest,  mountain,  murmuring  flood, 
That  decked  the  beauteous  range  of  her  domain, 
The  desert,  and  the  illimitable  sea; 
The  pride  of  human  prowess,  storied  fields, 


THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Scenes  whose  heroic  deeds  can  never  die; 

The  tracks  of  ravage,  theatres  of  crime; 

The  myriad  homes  and  temples,  hallowed  ground, 

With  love  and  tears  and  labor  consecrate; 

Aspiring  piles,  imperial  palaces, 

The  domes  of  splendor,  haughty  monuments, 

With  every  lowly  roof,  or  haunt  of  shame  : 

The  countless  shapes  of  use  and  luxury, 

Machines  of  service,  instruments  of  guilt, 

The  red-mouthed  cannon,  and  the  fluttering  flag ; 

The  flying  wheels,  the  thundering  enginery, 

And  all  the  white-winged  squadrons  of  the  deep ; 

Marvels  in  marble,  beauteous  feats  of  art, 

And  herds  of  teeming  science  ;  libraries, 

With  precious  wisdom  of  the  ages  fraught, 

Nor  ever  lost,  translated-  in  the  souls 

Ennobled  in  their  love ;  the  Scriptures,  now 

In  every  tongue  infolded,  rising  like 

A  cloud  of  incense  to  their  source  again  ;    •     t 

The  glorious  Land,  the  dear  Jerusalem, 

The  Lake,  the  Mount,  the  Garden,  Calvary, 

With  every  holy  and  remembered  spot, 

Wrapped  in  the  burning  mantle  ;  that  the  earth, 

And  everything  by  sin  touched  and  defiled, 

May  from  the  direful  taint  be  purified, 

And  in  the  fiery  process  be  dissolved, 


FINISHED. 


223 


Again  to  rise  in  forms  of  nobler  state 
And  beauty  for  the  home  of  righteousness. 

Rage,  conflagration  dread  and  glorious! 
Type  of  the  turmoil  in  the  soul  of  sin, 
With  lust  aflame,  and  burning  evermore ; 
Rage  thy  content  of  judgment,  purify 
With  thy  consuming  fires,  and  make  the  earth 
A  universal  altar,  fair  and  fit 
For  a  pure,  spotless  worship.     On  a  cloud, 
Securely  sitting  in  the  gracious  smile, 
Without  a  fear  I  watch  the  fearful  scene; 
And  that,  whose  very  thought  once  stirred  dismay, 
Now,  in  the  open  vision,  but  appears 
Resplendent  with  the  majesty  of  God, 
Correcting  for  the  chorus  of  his  throne. 

Thus  ready,  every  eye  and  every  ear 
Awake  and  eager,  nevermore  to  sleep ; 
The  Son  of  God  from  suffering  lowliness 
Exalted  to  his  place,  in  aspect  high 
Of  judgment,  terrible  or  glorious, 
As  every  creature  sees  his  destiny, 
In  conscious  heart,  reflected  in  that  face, 
Centre  and  sun  of  all ;  the  great  hour  strikes, 
With  open  books  and  infinite  knowledge  armed, 


224  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

And  probe  of  piercing  light :  the  Book  of  Life, 

Written,  with  love's  eternal  signature, 

Full  to  the  edges  with  immortal  names, 

For  ever  by  the  crimson  signet  safe ; 

The  Book  of  Knowledge,  like  a  sky  at  noon 

Spread  wide  and  clear,  and  leaf  by  leaf  along 

Turned  by  the  swift  archangel.     Truth  itself 

The  unerring  record  reads  ;  while  memory, 

With  Atlantean  shoulders,  bears  a  world 

In  the  huge  continent  of  human  years, 

Nor  leaves  a  thought  behind.     The  very  soul 

Is  written  history  of  its  teeming  life  ; 

The  subtlest  tracings,  by  the  blazing  throne, 

Brought  to  clear  vision,  as  by  chemic  fire 

The  dark  inscription.     Shadows  fill  their  form. 

The  ages  struggle  to  reveal  themselves, 

And  centuries  rush  in  moments.     In  the  press 

Of  that  tremendous  vintage  lives  gush  out, 

And  the  swift  goblet  foams.     It  may  be  wrath, 

It  may  be  mercy  ;  but  the  millions  drink, 

Each  as  his  hand  has  mingled.     Nothing  lurks. 

The  closest  secret  has  a  trumpet  now  ; 

The  heart  is  housetop,  and  the  midnight  clay. 

No  closet  more,  no  veil,  no  covered  hand, 

But  the  bare  gaze  of  unobstructed  light ; 

Light,  whose  keen  scrutiny  now  gathers  up 


FINISHED.  225 

A  lifetime  in  a  glance,  and  satisfies 

Impartial  justice.     One  by  one,  to  all 

Is  meted  out  eternal  recompense 

For  wrong,  or  mercy  to  the  merciful, 

Reward  of  lowly  service,  sanctified 

By  the  red-handed  rescue  of  the  Cross; 

With  faith  the  sign,  with  love  the  crowning  test, 

And  Christ  the  gracious  pattern  and  the  power. 

And  now  expressly  bends  the  Eye  Divine, 
Sharp  in  its  fire  of  holiness,  on  me, 
A  mote  amid  the  thronging  multitudes. 
And  in  that  glance]  as  by  the  gleaming  noon 
The  landscape  opens,  valleys  are  revealed, 
And  thickets  show  their  shadows,  so  appears 
My  life  as  in  a  vision.     Thoughts  and  deeds 
Flash  in  swift  legions,  till,  from  furlough  long 
Of  sleep  and  leisure  of  forgetfulness, 
Each  one  is  present,  like  a  soldier  true 
To  the  tart  trumpet,  and  the  field  is  full. 
My  days  come  thronging,  like  to  teeming  years, 
So  grown  their  trifles  to  their  just  import, 
Crowding  the  startled  vision,  clearer  seen 
Than  in  the  vivid  freshness  of  their  prime, 
A  thousand  yesterdays  in  one  to-day, 
And  each  bad  moment  heavier  than  a  life 


226  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Weighed  in  the  partial  scales  of  earthly  love ; 
With  every  purpose,  as  perspicuous 
As  its  achievement,  gathered  like  a  fist, 
To  smite  me  with  the  buffet  terrible. 
From  long-forgotten  tombs  awake  and  rise, 
In  ghastly  troops,  myriads  of  mortal  sins, 
And  at  my  soul  their  deadly  charges  hurl, 
If  I  dare  answer  in  the  face  of  Heaven  ; 
While  every  purest  feeling,  motive,  thought, 
Is  soiled  with  sin,  and  nothing  boldly  stands 
Irradiant  in  a  spotless  holiness. 
Guilt,  like  an  ocean,  threatens  to  engulf ; 
Whose  vile,  perturbed,  infected  drops,  in  God's 
Disclosing  glass,  show  like  a  sea,  to  depths 
Unfathomable  leading  down,  with  fierce 
And  frightful  monsters  filled.     Yet  I  rejoice, 
With  hope  and  love,  like  birds  of  early  morn 
At  their  melodious  matins,  singing  sweet 
As  holy  angels  in  my  happy  heart, 
Quiring  the  rich  beatitudes  of  bliss ; 
Rejoice,  for  in  that  piercing  look  divine 
I'm  not  consumed,  but  quickened  like  a  coal 
Responsive  to  the  breath,  in  brighter  glow 
Of  unconsuming  and  immortal  fire ; 
The  burden  and  the  terror  long  ago 
In  the  deep  bosom  buried  of  that  Grace, 


FINISHED.  227 

Whose  loving  hand,  with  crimson  signet  armed, 
To  glorious  life  broke  my  captivity. 

Along  the  ranks  the  piercing  judgment  flies 
With  fearful  decimation,  culling  out 
The  wicked  from  the  righteous,  till  they  stand 
Two  separate  armies  of  eternity, 
No  more  to  mingle,  no  more  to  be  changed ; 
Each  with  the  clear  seal  of  his  destiny, 
In  dreadful  apprehension,  or  with  hope 
Bathing  his  visage  with  its  blessed  light  •, 
Probation  ended,  and  the  wheels  of  time 
Brought  finally  to  their  appointed  goal, 
Now  at  the  gates  eternal  to  discharge 
Their  burden,  so  to  lie  for  evermore ; 
The  hovering  angels  vocal  with  acclaim, 
And  with  her  work  triumphant  grace  content; 
With  not  one  promise  broken,  not  a  soul 
Lost  from  the  long  election,  not  a  wrong 
To  stain  the  stroke  of  justice,  not  a  throb 
Of  love  in  vain,  nor  sigh  of  suffering 
Amiss  in  its  benignant  agony. 

Now,  on  the  right  hand,  humbly  wondering,  we 
Receive  our  blissful  sentence,  thus  addressed, 
With  less  or  larger  meaning,  as  though  each 


228  THE   TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Heard  but  the  single  voice  to  him  alone, 

In  sovereign  tones,  unutterably  sweet, 

Itself  a  recompense  greater  than  worlds, 

Giving  to  all,  as  able  to  receive, 

In  endless  variation,  still  the  same, 

One  heaven,  one  welcome,  one  divine  reward : 

"Come,  blessed  of  my  Father!  now  receive 

The  kingly  heritage,  for  you  prepared 

Before  the  world  was  founded.     For  ye  have 

Fed  me  ahungered;  thirsty,  given  me  drink; 

A  stranger,  entertained ;  naked,  have  clothed  ; 

Sick  and  in  prison,  to  me  ministered  : 

To  me,  if  but  to  one  the  least  of  mine. 

In  the  dark  world  ye  did  confess  me ;  now, 

Before  my  Father,  and  the  angels  bright, 

Freely  confess  I  you.     Faithful  in  few, 

Henceforth  I  make  you  over  many  things 

Rulers  for  ever.     Ye  have  overcome, 

Nor  fainted  in  the  perilous  weary  way, 

Enduring  to  the  end.     Enter  my  joy, 

And  walk  with  me  in  white.     The  morning  star 

I  give  you,  and  the  victor's  fadeless  crown, 

The  hidden  manna,  and  the  precious  stone 

In  beauty  graven  with  my  secret  name. 

No  sorrow  more,  no  hunger,  suffering,  sin, 

But  bliss  and  glory  with  me  in  my  throne 


FINISHED.  229 

For  ever,  in  the  paradise  of  God." 

• 

O  knowledge  new,  and  ever  newer  still, 
The  older  grown,  and  growing  endlessly! 
Known  well  before,  it  was  but  ignorance 
To  this  reality  from  lips  Divine. 
O  wondrous  answer  to  my  sinfulness  ! 
Yes,  born  of  God,  by  sovereign  power  upheld, 
Under  the  mighty  wing  of  love,  I  stand 
Enrobed  in  mercy,  cleansed  from  every  tinct 
Of  sin's  rude  mastery,  while  beyond  my  guilt 
The  benediction  falls.     My  wayward  soul, 
Once  like  a  planet  wandering  from  its  sphere, 
Dark  with  eclipse,  lo !  now  the  glorious  Sun 
Floods  with  his  beams,  and  all  the  night  is  day : 
Day  at  the  judgment,  day  without  a  cloud, 
A  day  of  joy  and  blessing  without  end 
In  the  full  radiance  of  the  infinite  face, 
Whose  gracious  smile,  with  heaven  in  every  ray, 
Lights  the  sweet  word  of  welcome  from  the  throne 

'  And  now  the  sentence  stern,  with  aspect  sad, 
That  brightens  more  the  brightness  of  the  throne, 
Thus  the  tumultuous  crew  of  hate  and  wrong 
Judges  :  "  Depart,  ye  cursed  !  to  the  fire 
Eternal,  for  the  rebel  hosts  prepared  ; 


230  THE    TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

And  make  your  bed  with  burnings,  where  the  worm 

Dies  never,  and  the  flame  is  never  quenched. 

For  to  my  hunger  never  gave  ye  meat, 

Nor  water  to  my  thirst  ;  my  nakedness 

Did  never  clothe  ;   a  stranger,  entertain, 

Nor  visit  me,  sick,  captive,  desolate, 

Bound  with  my  brethren  in  their  weary  bonds. 

I  never  knew  you ;  never  had  your  faith, 

Your  faithful  service.     What  was  all  to  me, 

Your  lips  of  worship,  and  your  hostile  lives, 

Your  vain  oblations,  empty,  perjured  prayers, 

Reluctant  honor,  heartless  sacrifice  ? 

I  never  knew  you.     Ye  have  been  ashamed 

Of  me,  and  of  my  \vord,  my  work,  my  cross, 

Within  the  wicked  and  adulterous  time; 

And  now,  before  the  angels  and  the  heavens, 

In  glory  throned,  I  am  ashamed  of  you. 

Depart,  ye  workers  of  iniquity  !  " 

He  ceases ;  and  a  moment  silence  reigns, 
Silence  so  solemn  and  so  still,  as  if 
Life  quailed  in  every  bosom,  overwhelmed 
With  pressure  of  the  terror.     But  as  when, 
In  the  old  rage  of  battle  on  the  earth, 
The  deadly  charge  is  ordered,  and  the  ranks, 
An  instant  wavering,  then  with  bursting  shouts 


FINISHED.  231 

Of  desperate  fury  to  the  onset  pour ; 

So,  for  a  moment  still,  the  hosts  condemned 

With  howl  terrific  take  the  dread  award, 

And  break  in  wrath  against  the  throne,  like  waves 

Against  the  steadfast  rock,  muttering  revenge, 

Or  pleading  the  injustice  of  their  fate. 

In  vain  ;  for  all  their  pleas  of  insolence, 

The  haughty  scowl,  the  burst  of  blasphemy, 

The  very  hell  in  their  uncovered  hearts, 

In  hot  rebellion  seething  to  the  face 

And  challenge  of  eternal  Majesty, 

Confirm  the  judgment  of  their  banishment, 

And  show  the  everlasting  sentence  just. 

"Just,"  shout  the  angels,  and  with  fervid  voice 

Still  utter  hallelujah.     All  the  heavens, 

To  the  remotest  star,  in  harmony 

Re-echo,  "Just."     And  the  abhorred  abyss, 

In  rugged  sympathy  with  righteousness, 

Opening  its  hideous  arms  to  fold  them  in, 

With  every  tongue  of  torture  mutters,  "Just." 

And  the  sad  host  plunge  to  their  dread  reward, 

Glad  to  escape  the  burning*  Holiness, 

Never  escaped,  nor  conscience,  nor  themselves  ; 

With  Satan  in  the  horrid  van  of  woe, 

Defiant,  pent  and  stifled  to  the  gasp 

With  the  ineffectual  fever  of  his  rage, 


232  THE    TEMPLE    REBUILT. 

Tortured  with  memory,  riddled  with  remorse, 

Racked  with  the  untamed  tempest  of  his  will, 

Tossed  on  the  spears  of  passion,  lapped  in  wrath, 

Seething  in  rancor,  and  his  willing  crew, 

To  the  grim  features  of  his  infamy, 

Training  in  endless  sin;  so  of  themselves 

Still,  in  the  confirmation  of  their  law, 

To  deeper  darkness  sinking,  fiercer  dread, 

More  bitter,  sharp,  consuming  agony, 

In  utter  hopelessness,  while  ages  roll. 

But  the  redeemed,  in  greater  millions,  past 
The  rich  arithmetic  of  hope,  with  shouts, 
With  garlands,  banners  and  triumphal  songs. 
Mount  to  the  heavenly  mansions  and  reward, 
Unwearied  service,  ecstasy  of  bliss, 
And  hallelujahs  of  eternal  praise. 
High  in  the  van  the  mighty  Conqueror  rides, 
In  radiance  of  renown,  bright  majesty, 
On  "his  cherubic  throne,  leading  the  hosts 
Of  his  victorious  grace,  in  golden  chains, 
Captive  to  his  benignant  empery : 
In  such  procession  of  imperial  pomp 
As  hitherto  saw  never  heaven  itself ; 
Outshining,  in  the  lustre  of  his  crowns, 
The  gorgeous  glories  of  a  thousand  kings  ; 


FINISHED.  233 

Through  the  high  spaces  sweeping,  like  the  sun 

From  the  clear  gates  of  morning,  every  tongue 

Loud  with  his  praise.     In  glowing  ranks  around 

Angelic  multitudes  compass   the  way, 

And  pave  his  progress  with  their  rings  of  power ; 

Thrones  bend  in  homage  ;  suns  their  visage  veil; 

The  throbbing  empyrean  jubilant 

Resounds  with  pealing  peans  ;  from  afar 

The  utmost  orb  and  blazing  sentinel 

Pours  in  responsive  honor  ;  earth  beneath 

Swells  the  ascending  chorus  ;    heaven  throws  wide 

The  massy  welcome  of  her  golden  gates  : 

As  thus  he  comes,  triumphant  Son  of  God, 

Messiah,  Saviour,  Mediator,  Lord, 

Girt  with  the  starry  millions  of  his  grace, 

His  mediation  over,  all  to  lay 

Beneath  the  throne,  that  God  may  over  all 

Reign  in  eternal  glory  of  his  love. 


BOOK  X. 
HALLELUJAH. 


A  call  to  all  created  things,  all  beings  blessed,  on  earth  and  in  Heaven, 
to  praise  the  Lord  for  his  redemption.    A  Song  of  Praise.     Conclusion. 


O  voices  of  supernal  melody, 
Choirs  of  angelic  art,  seraphic  thrones  ; 
Chorus  of  nations,  every  mortal  tongue, 
And  stubborn  things  unused  to  thankfulness, 
Redeemed,  or  waiting  for  the  promised  day 
Of  full  redemption  with  the  sons  of  God ; 
All,  through  creation's  boundless  amplitude ! 
Lift  the  glad  song,  in  notes  triumphant  pour 
The  impassioned  homage  of  your  gratitude, 
Till  every  sphere  with  hallelujah  ring, 
And  entertain  the  Eternal  King  with  praise. 

Praise   Him,  ye  mountains!    on  whose  beetling 
crags 

234 


HALLELUJAH.  ^35 

Nestle  the  eagles,  peering  for  their  prey ; 

Where  frorft  the  clouds  of  thunder  tempests  bind 

Their  brows  with  terror,  and  the  sullen  snows 

With  cold  caressing  lap  the  traveler  ; 

Or  where  the  molten  entrails  vomit  fire 

In  furious  miniature  of  final  doom. 

In  higher  grandeur  yet  will  you  arise, 

Under  a  fairer  sky,  a  calmer  clime, 

Bright  pillars  of  the  sun  ;  your  radiant  brows, 

Disarmed  of  every  weapon  of  dismay, 

The  purple  pavement  of  angelic  feet, 

With  sovereign  peace  on  every  peak  enthroned. 

Praise  Him,  ye  hills  !  upon  whose  secret  top, 
Till  stealthy  night,  the  sons  of  blood  have  lurked, 
And  altars  reeked  with  cruel  sacrifice, 
And  hunted  virtue  cowered,  and  eager  flames 
Shot  their  alarm  of  danger  to  the  land  ; 
Or  frowning  castles,  ramparted  in  rock, 
Hurled  fierce  defiance  from  their  battlements. 
On  all  your  summits  yet  will  banners  float 
Of  truth  and  mercy,  herald  anthems  sing, 
The  sacred  turret  rise,  and  starry  tower 
To  open  heaven,  and  show  the  way  of  worlds 
In  dazzling  splendor  to  the  throne  of  God. 


THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Praise  Him,  ye  streams  !  that  have  with  carnage 

run, 

Floated  the  thunderous  and  distempered  keels, 
Walled  with  a  hostile  current,  overwhelmed 
With  sudden  and  impetuous  rush  of  death, 
Or  fed  the  ungrateful  harvests.     Ye  will  yet, 
Cleansed  in  the  baptism  of  the  holy  cloud, 
With  limpid  waters  flow,  serenely  bear 
Unsullied  commerce,  and  sweet  concord  make 
With  the  melodious  beauty  of  your  banks  ; 
Nursing  the  grateful  roots  of  plenteous  good, 
Like  rivers  of  the  primal  paradise. 

Praise  Him,  ye  fields !  where  mad  ambition  has 
Won  the  dread  crown  of  battle,  or  the  lash 
Expressed  its  bloody  vintage,  and  the  toil 
Of  selfishness  so  often  garnered  gain 
To  mock  the  messages  of  charity. 
Yet  will  your  roods  with  cannon  nevermore 
Be  plowed,  but  with  the  peaceful  implements ; 
Nor  tilled  by  slavish  hands,  or  slavish  hearts, 
But  with  a  holy  culture ;  so  to  fill 
The  poorest  with  abundance,  and  the  rich 
Without  a  surfeit,  by  an  overflow 
Untainted  in  the  stagnant  pool  of  greed. 


HALLELUJAH.  237 

Praise  Him,  ye  forests!  in  whose  dismal  depths, 
And  grim  retreats  of  sullen  mystery, 
The  savage  roams,  and  wild  beasts  raven ;  where 
Fell  pillage  skulks,  and  murder  hides  his  blood, 
And  fretful  tempests  in  distemper  roar, 
Or  fiery  riot  leaps  from  limb  to  limb 
With  its  consuming  terror.     All  your  aisles 
Will  yet  with  worship  ring;  your  columns  rear 
Their  firmament  of  shade  to  roof  the  ways 
Of  virtue  and  delight ;  your  branches  sing 
Enchanting  welcome  to  the  gentle  winds, 
With  every  leaf  a  hymn,  and  every  bird 
A  feathery  warble  of  melodious  joy. 

Praise  Him,  ye   deserts!  where   the   scorching 

beams 

Burn  desolation,  and  siroccos  play 
In  fury  on  the  sandy  barrenness, 
And  only  death  is  your  rich  harvester. 
Yet  will  your  rivers  run,  your  blossoms  bend 
Their  sweet  lips  to  the  bee,  your  garners  groan, 
And  fertile  splendor  decorate  your  sands, 
Till  paradise  displace  the  wilderness. 

Praise  Him,  thou  ocean !  where  tornadoes  plough 
Furrows  of  ruin,  and  rapacious  winds 


238  THE   TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Riot  in  ravage,  and  the  keels  of  war 

Vex  the  tired  waters,  and  the  rocky  cliffs 

Boom  with  the  thunder  of  thy  petulance. 

Yet  will  the  jocund  breezes  only  dance 

Thy  waves,  and  safely  waft  the  prows  of  peace ; 

Thy  weltering  flood  no  more  a  sepulchre 

Of  horror  to  the  human  bubbles  cast 

Upon  thy  bosom  in  their  helplessness, 

But  in  the  quiet  mirror  of  thy  face 

Angels  will  float,  and  the  fair  heavens  appear 

Without  a  resurrection  in  the  deep. 

Praise  Him,  ye  islands  !  in  convulsion  born, 
Or  of  the  myriad  builders,  tomb  on  tomb, 
A  fleet  of  beauty,  anchored  in  the  rough 
Disorder  of  the  fluent  wilderness, 
Laden  with  rank  luxuriance,  and  its  pest, 
The  luxury  of  pernicious  idleness  ; 
Where  torrid  passions,  gorging  human  prey, 
In  hot  debauch  of  lust  and  cruelty, 
Have  shamed  the  glory  of  your  tropic  grace. 
Yet  will  ye  gem  the  waves,  like  bits  of  heaven 
Upon  the  peaceful  bosom  of  the  deep, 
With  living  gleam  of  truth  and  righteousness, 
And,  like  the  stars  on  the  still  azure,  float 
In  the  blue  splendor  of  the  tranquil  sea. 


HALLELUJAH.  239 

Praise  Him,  O  sun  and  moon  !  with  every  orb 
That  sparkles  in  the  spaces  infinite, 
The  Throne  encircling  with  your  lustrous  pomp, 
That  all  these  ages  long,  through  storm  and  night, 
And  rifts  of  weeping  clouds,  have  gazed  upon 
This  lurid  theatre  of  human  woe, 
This  battle-planet  of  the  right  and  wrong. 
Renewed,  and  featured  with  a  fairer  grace 
Than  on  creation's  morning,  it  will  yet, 
Out  of  this  turmoil  and  eclipse,  arise 
In  glorious  mould,  in  spotless  garniture, 
To  mingle  in  your  shining  company, 
Mate  in  magnificence,  of  brighter  fame. 

Praise  Him,  ye  souls  immortal !  to  whose  worth 
The  fleet  of  worlds  is  as  the  flying  dust ; 
Thou  living,  teeming  round  of  human  years 
From  the  crude  cradle  to  the  mellow  tomb  ! 
Children !  in  budding  freshness  of  your  prime, 
Unnursed  in  guile,  unpampered  in  desire, 
The  blessed  promise  of  the  happy  home  : 
Youth  !  in  your  might,  or  maiden  loveliness, 
With  strength  and  beauty  on  the  altar  laid, 
And  life  before  you  opening  like  a  day 
Of  fair  fruition  of  your  golden  dreams  : 
Manhood !  upon  the  rugged  way,  oppressed 


THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

With  the  stern  load  of  duty,  bearing  up 
The  pillars  and  the  massy  circumstance, 
Or  struggling  in  the  battle,  in  defeat 
Yet  nobler  than  in  victory,  with  your  eye 
Upon  the  glorious  issue,  and  reward 
Of  welcome  to  the  faithful  servitor  : 
Age  !  on  the  silvery  summit,  face  to  face 
With  the  opening  gates  of  everlasting  day, 
With  rounded  honor,  embassy  complete,  ] 
And  garner  full ;  or,  like  a  warrior  worn, 
With  battered  armor,  and  unflinching  heart, 
And  patience  pictured  in  the  shining  face, 
Waiting  the  summons  to  the  eternal  camp 
Upon  the  blissful  hills,  ready  to  fold 
The  trembling  tabernacle  for  the  sky, 
Hearing  already  voices  from  afar, 
And  almost,  on  thy  forehead,  feeling  now 
The  noble  pressure  of  the  coming  crown. 

Praise  Him,  ye  favorites  of  felicity  ! 
Compassed  with  fortune,  wedded  to  success, 
And  lay  your  triumphs  to  his  ruling  love, 
That  your  thanksgiving  may  its  measure  take 
From  sovereign  bounty,  and  your  faithful  heart 
Keep  tune  with  good  divine.     And  ye  forlorn  ! 
With  drink  of  tears,  and  life  a  daily  frown 


HALLELUJAH.  241 

Of  disappointment  and  defeated  hopes, 

With  withered  blossoms,  sable  finery, 

The  aching  burden,  and  the  pitiless  storm 

Pelting  the  couching  remnants  of  delight, 

Oh,  praise  him  still,  your  damage  counting  gain, 

Your  buffets  bliss,  disaster  victory , 

That  with  sublimer  sufferance  ye  endure, 

And  know  the  luxury  of  the  fretful  care 

Cast  on  the  heavenly  promise,  and  the  sweet 

Release  of  sorrow  in  a  higher  joy. 

Praise  Him,  ye  sons  of  virtue !    whose  bright 

arms 

Have  fenced  the  blackest  legions  from  your  breast, 
And  barred  the  ruin,  but  whose  castle  yet, 
In  lordly  pride  and  luxury  of  self, 
Was  never  held  and  managed  for  its  King, 
Till  he,  of  his  great  right,  possession  took, 
Transfused  to  his  your  bars  of  righteousness, 
And  your  fair  walls  transfigured  in  his  love  : 
And  ye  !    whose  gates  were  ever  open  wide 
To  all  the  waiting  forces  of  desire, 
The  mad  rebellion,  rancor,  surfeit,  lust, 
And  riot  of  atrocious  revelry, 
Till  he,  the  rightful  Lord,  with  stress  of  grace, 
Broke  the  hard  yoke  of  your  oppression,  flung 


242  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

His  crimson  banner  from  your  conquered  towers, 
And  filled  your  throne  with  nobler  majesty. 

Praise  Him,  ye  kings  !  weary  of  hollow  pomp, 
The  sport  of  armies,  and  the  harlot  fame, 
And  baubles  of  the  diadem  and  sword, 
And  stormy  bluster  of  authority  ; 
The  higher  thrones,  with  heavenly  splendor  rich, 
And  royalty  of  everlasting  rule, 
All  ready  to  your  gentle  sway  of  .peace, 
Impartial  justice,  courage  for  the  right, 
And  loyal  service  of  your  godly  arms : 
And  ye  !  who  know  the  iron  tread  of  wrong, 
The  grinding  yoke,  the  stigma  of  the  lash, 
The  sting  of  insolence,  the  biting  fear, 
And  all  the  slavish  enginery ;  whose  seats 
Of  vast  dominion  are  prepared,  to  hold 
Your  virtuous  triumph,  heroes  of  defeat, 
And  royal  conquerors  of  captivity. 

Praise  Him,  O  all  ye  nations  !  ye  who  fill 
By  skillful  culture  with  luxuriance 
The  favored  regions,  where  the  planted  truth 
Has  ripened  in  your  prosperous  enterprise, 
Your  schools,  your  churches,  charities  of  love, 
Peace,  and  goodwill,  adorning  gloriously, 


HALLELUJAH.  243 

Like  starry  brilliants  on  the  brow  of  night, 
Despite  the  mists  of  rank  unrighteousness, 
The  lurid  face  of  earth  :  and  ye  !  where  war 
With  hot  throat  belches  ruin,  and  gaunt  death 
Of  hapless  tribes  makes  reckless  sacrifice, 
Shipping  by  myriads  to  the  fatal  shore 
In  commerce  of  perdition  ;  or  the  grim 
Pall  of  thick  darkness,  an  Egyptian  shroud, 
Wraps  the  dead  living  in  entombing  night, 
The  burial  of  a  senseless  apathy, 
Or  gloomy  superstition.     Now  aloft 
Advance  your  loyal  ensigns  ;  mollify 
Your  stormy  climate  with  the  air  of  heaven ; 
Accept  the  bright  dominion,  safe  beneath 
The  holy  sceptre  and  the  peaceful  wing 
Of  the  extended  mercy,  till  the  world, 
To  every  corner,  bold  in  righteousness, 
Restore  to  God  its  wandering  heart,  upbuild 
His  injured  throne  again,  and,  like  the  deep 
Voice  of  the  many  waters,  one  full  song 
Pour  forth  forever  in  majestic  praise. 

Praise  Him,  O  Time  !  from  thy  obscurest  spring 
To  the  full  ocean,  on  whose  stormy  flood 
Empires  have  floated,  and  like  bubbles  passed 
Into  the  thick  air  of  oblivion, 


244  THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT. 

Yet  bearing  still  the  ark  of  precious  hope 

Ever  in  safety,  every  wave  a  plan, 

And  every  drop  a  purpose  to  advance 

The  buoyant  glory  to  its  destined  shore. 

And  tbou,  Eternity  !  whose  swelling  tide, 

Without  an  ebb,  without  a  strand,  rolls  on 

Through  the  vast  reaches  of  unending  years, 

Wrapped  in  the  mists  of  awful  mystery  ; 

The  glass  of  Deity,  the  worthy  scope 

Of  Heaven's  immortal  mercy,  the  ample  range 

For  every  aim  and  venturous  thought  divine, 

The  fittest  field  of  harvest  in  the  full 

Unfolding  of  the  incarnate,  gracious  bud 

To  the  consummate  fruit,  whose  blessings  rich 

Uncounted  myriads  bless  ;  sound,  sound  his  praise, 

Nor  let  a  flying  moment  voiceless  pass 

In  melody  of  glory  to  his  name. 

Praise  Him,  ye  hosts  on  high  !  seraphic  fires, 
Dominions,  princedoms,  hierarchies  bright, 
Powers  of  supernal  wing :  angels  !  who  have 
The  ages  long  with  eager  vision  peered 
Into  the  unfathomed  mystery,  every  ray 
And  feeblest  sparkle  studied  like  a  sun : 
Ye  morning  stars  !  who  sang  the  birth  of  worlds  ; 
More  sweetly  yet  the  Birth  more  wonderful 


HALLELUJAH,  245 

In  human  form,  whose  breath  with  being  filled 

The  azure  wilderness :  cherubic  shapes  ! 

That  on  your  mighty  pinions,  like  the  light, 

Carry  the  sovereign  will,  and  messages 

Of  purport  everlasting  :  living  wheels  ! 

That,  high  and  dreadful,  on  your  firmament 

Of  crystal  bear  afar  the  sapphire  throne 

In  providence  of  mercy,  or  the  swift 

Awards  of  judgment :   prophets  !  whose  rich  voice, 

With  present  comfort  fraught,  with  future  fate, 

And  ages  of  unrolling  history, 

Dropped  light  and  warning  on  the  stubborn  lands, 

Till  face  to  face  with  prophecy  itself 

At  its  full  spring  :  apostles  !  messengers 

Undaunted,  favored  with  the  intimate 

Communion  in  the  flesh,  more  richly  yet, 

Upon  your  thrones  of  glory,  with  the  high 

Ascended  fellowship  Divine,  above 

The  stature  of  archangels  :  martyrs  !  ye 

Who  in  your  faith's  great  testimony  faced 

The  sword,  the  flame,  the  bitter  rage  of  hell, 

Till  rapt  in  bloody  honor,  leaving  still 

Your  crimson  seed  of  sacrifice  behind, 

To  spring  afresh  for  ages :     warriors  !  who 

The  embattled  bulwarks  held,  and  never  shrank 

For  the  black  banner ;  victors  in  your  fall ; 


246  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

With  crowns  of  peace,  with  palms  of  victory, 
Encamped  forever  in  your  tents  of  light : 
Heroes  of  patience  !  who  on  weary  beds, 
Above  the  fiery  battle,  won  the  slow 
Conflict  with  suffering,  and  the  more  exult 
Now  in  the  comfort  of  your  painless  rest, 
And  revel  of  unhampered  happiness : 
Toilers!  who  have  the  island  and  the  main 
Tilled  with  the  seed  of  mercy,  deserts  wrought 
To  fruitful  plenty,  and  now  gloriously 
Garner  your  toil  above  :  ye  tempted !  who 
With  surly  passion  fought  the  bitter  fight, 
And  bravely  met  the  rough,  revengeful  brunts 
Of  Satan  and  the  world  ;  often  cast  down  ; 
More  often  in  almighty  arms  immured, 
Till  from  the  war  of  life  to  safety  borne 
Within  celestial  ramparts.    All  ye  bands  ! 
Rejoicing  millions  !  squadrons  glorious ! 
Ages  on  ages  mustering,  countless  throngs 
Of  population  in  the  starry  streets, 
In  beauty  of  supernal  graces  clad, 
With  tongues  of  fire,  and  sounding  instruments, 
And  thunder  of  your  blessed  revelry, 
All,  all,  adore  Him,  magnify  his  name, 
And  to  your  ocean,  the  Eternal  Ear, 
Pour  the  melodious  rivers  of  your  praise. 


HALLELUJAH.  247 

"  Father  almighty  !  Fountain  of  all  good, 
Sun  of  all  light,  Throne  of  all  government, 
The  Sum  of  blessing,  Love  ineffable  : 
Eternally  the  thought  of  mercy  filled 
The  counsels  of  thy  wisdom,  to  redeem 
The  coming  ruin,  and  the  heavenly  hosts 
Augment  with  ransomed  millions,  heavenly  songs 
Swell  with  the  rapture  of  forgiven  tongues, 
And  heavenly  thrones  adorn  with  earthly  kings. 
Not  in  creation,  not  in  glittering  worlds, 
Not  in  the  seraph  multitude  of  wings, 
Thy  glory  most  was  opened,  and  thy  plan 
Of  amplest  nature  and  consummate  love ; 
But  in  the  mission  of  thy  clemency, 
When,  in  the  fulness  of  the  promised  hour, 
Thy  filial  Image  took  the  great  command 
Of  mercy,  hastened  from  his  regal  place, 
And  low  descended  to  the  haunts  of  men, 
To  bear  the  lost,  in  everlasting  arms, 
Back  to  the  covert  of  the  heavenly  fold. 
We  praise  thee,  faithful,  true,  compassionate 
To  cover  with  eternal  wings  of  grace 
The  rebel  sons  of  sin,  nor  thereto  spare 
Thy  bosom  in  its  dearest  tenderness. 
Thine  everlasting  altars  shall  abound 
With  our  adoring  incense,  and  thy  crown 


248  THE  TEMPLE  REBUILT. 

Glory  receive,  strength,  riches,  wisdom,  might, 
And  endless  service  of  our  grateful  love. 

"  Thee  too,  with  grateful  homage,  Son  of  God  ! 
We  praise, with  loving  honor  crown  thy  name  ; 
From  the  abyss  of  woe  and  bitter  death 
Exalted  to  thy  place  of  majesty, 
Recrowned  with  light,  in  glory  more  enthroned. 
We  praise  thee,  praise  thee,  for  the  willing  steps 
Of  thy  veiled  godhead  in  the  paths  of  men, 
Blessing  with  affluent  hand,  and  bearing  still 
The  scorn,  the  buffet,  the  envenomed  hate, 
The  dreadful  burden  of  the  guilty  world, 
Even  to  the  cross  ;  so  winning  by  thy  loss, 
And  in  his  deadly  fortress  conquering  Death. 
Up  from  the  tomb,  triumphant  King  !  in  clouds 
Of  glory  wafted  to  thy  seat  supreme, 
With  banners  of  redemptive  blazonry, 
And  full  devotion  of  enraptured  heaven, 
All  power  is  thine,  all  grace,  all  victory, 
To  win  the  souls  thy  suffering  mercy  saved, 
Crowd  the  high  mansions,  endless  empire  hold, 
And  make  eternity  one  widening  stream 
Of  love  and  honor  to  advance  thy  name. 
Here  at  thy  feet  our  willing  all  we  cast, 
And  take  our  method  from  the  morning  stars, 


HALLELUJAH.  249 

Who  count  the  ages  in  their  ministry, 

And  know  thine  ancient  worth.     To  thee,  not  less, 

Though  in  the  mantle  of  humanity, 

With  accents  of  undimmed  and  equal  praise, 

We  turn  our  blissful  worship.     All  we  are, 

Or  hope  for,  or  fulfil,  is  still  of  thee ; 

And  thine  the  glory.     Every  holy  joy, 

Impulse,  desire,  promotion,  benefit, 

Is  fruit  of  thy  fair  tree,  planted  in  blood, 

And  sweetly  bowering  with  its  blessedness 

Our  paths  of  paradise.     Oh !  take  our  heart, 

The  tenderest  offering  of  our  gratitude, 

And,  robed  in  thy  clear  whiteness,  we  will  fill 

The  amazing  ages  with  our  festive  songs. 

"  Nor  less,  O  Spirit  supreme  of  holiness ! 
Thou  acting  energy  of  power  Divine, 
We  praise,  we  bless  thine  equal  majesty; 
Sweet  Comforter  in  sorrow,  patient  Guide 
Back  from  the  hapless  servitude  of  wrong, 
On  in  the  ways  of  duteous  righteousness, 
Up  in  the  blissful  scaling  of  the  sky; 
Instructor  in  the  heavenly  mysteries ; 
The  rich  Conveyor  of  the  precious  grace, 
And  with  thy  gentle  pinion  fanning  still 
The  feeblest  flicker  of  the  holy  fire, 


250  THE  TEMPLE   REBUILT. 

Till  it  mount  upward,  like  a  tongue  of  flame, 
And  wrap  the  throne.     With  equal  wisdom  thou 
Didst,  in  the  conclave  of  the  Deity, 
Devising  glory,  sit,  and  the  ancient  years 
Fill  with  the  shadows  of  the  coming  Sun, 
Streaking  the  darkness  with  celestial  dawn, 
From  lips  prophetic  and  the  altar  gleam, 
Till  from  the  open  gates,  in  bright  appeal, 
Rose  the  full  morning  on  the  lands  of  night. 
And  sooner  will  the  solar  shafts  return 
To  their  hot  quiver  from  the  infinite  deep, 
Than  thine  illumination  gather  back 
Its  potent  splendors  to  their  urn  again. 
By  thee  the  truth  its  willing  captives  wins, 
By  thee  the  aim  its  rich  accomplishment ; 
All  forces  wielding,  and  the  stoutest  heart 
Handling  with  magic  of  omnipotence. 
By  thee  is  rilled  our  glorious  destiny, 
Our  virtue  kindled,  our  desires  inflamed, 
Our  work  complete,  our  resurrection  sure, 
And  the  wide  wing  of  our  immortal  flight 
Sinewed  with  an  enrapturing  energy. 
Forth  from  the  everlasting  bosom  fly, 
O  Dove  divine  !  and  brood  the  waiting  world, 
Till  life,  begotten  of  celestial  seed, 
Spring  up  in  every  heart,  and  millions  more 


HALLELUJAH.  2$  I 

Add  their  glad  voices  to  our  endless  song. 

All  glory,  blessing,  majesty  be  thine, 

All  worship,  honor,  praise,  for  evermore  ! " 

So  may  the  earth  and  all  the  heavens  in  one, 
With  ceaseless  hallelujah,  still  extol 
The  worth  and  wisdom  of  the  grace  Divine, 
Which  from  its  dire  decay  the  temple  builds, 
Hews  its  rich  stones,  its  massy  columns  rears, 
And  crowns  it  in  the  high  eternal  realm, 
In  the  bright  City,  where  no  temple  is 
But  the  fair  temples  of  His  holiness. 


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